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mulders-too-large-shirt · 2 months

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s3 episode 8 thoughts

i’m conflicted. i didn’t like this episode, and i don’t know if my reasoning is valid or not. but i guess at the end of the day it’s all subjective, right? it’s MY BLOG and i decide which episodes are good vs bad in the juni-verse.

(do not be offended if this is your favorite episode and i am slandering it. it’s not personal, pinky promise, but i explain my reasoning at the end, so let’s jump in)

((also i hear geese right now. not relevant but highkey distracting))

oooo today’s episode title looks french… i thought at first that it would mean (feminine) someone who forgets something, but it actually means “a type of dungeon with a single escape route”. the more you know!

i’m excited to watch this episode. it sounds interesting. it also sounds like it could be really really dark. so let’s see! (verdict: DARK!)

we open on high school picture day. a girl named amy is getting her pictures taken. these girls are in very cute outfits. a guy from the photography company is staring at amy though… OH! and stroking her picture in a darkroom. HELLO??? jail jail jail.

(we later learn his name is carl. he will be referred to as “the creepy man” and “carl” alternatively throughout this post)

he cut out her picture and put it next to a picture of himself??? is he making a collage? GROWN MAN! GROWN MAN DOING ALL THIS BTW!!! in what looks like a trapdoor darkroom beneath his house. is this the aforementioned oubliette….?

amy is sleeping and. SOMEONE IS COMING IN HER WINDOW. NO MA’AM. it’s carl, who says that “nobody is going to spoil us”. a little girl sees this happen!!!! noooo… but maybe she can give a clue?? i mean a witness to a kidnapping seems like it’ll help solve the case, right?

now we are at a burger place, someone is taking a while to fill up some drinks- her name tag says “lucy”. and then there is BLOOD all over her from her nose. the boss looks majorly freaked. and she FAINTS! mumbling that nobody is going to spoil us. OH… so lucy and the girl must have some sort of connection. boy, that seems it'd be disruptive to the work day…

bum bum bum bum!!!! spooky noises. spooky imagery. you know it, you love it: the intro.

mulder and a very large coat are here to investigate the kidnapping. he is looking about at various rooms and walls.

noooo, he is in a child’s bedroom :( and he finds a very sad mrs. jacobs looking out the window. he says they will do everything they can to help but she is like “how could you really know how i feel?"

well actually he is quite well versed in kidnappings!!! so please be mindful of your words. she walks away and he looks very sad. way to dig some stuff up for the guy. she didn’t mean it, i know, but still, it was a very purposeful dialogue choice.

(mulder is staring intently at dark red spots on the carpet) “it’s blood”, says a guy we have never seen before. excellent work detective. could have had me fooled. i was thinking it was jam /s

this guy thinks it was someone that knew her, mulder does not think this is the case because it was so bold. fight fight fight!

oh, he actually came on this case to talk to lucy from the burger place!!! and not for the kidnapping. we should have known that was far too conventional for our friend.

(door opens) (deep sigh) (scully’s voice from off screen) "mulder…" <- yeah this had me giggling. not even really sure why. they are reunited after a flight apart. it must have been harrowing.

so, he explains: the girl, amy, is 15 years old, and was kidnapped. and twenty miles across town, lucy was repeating the same words the kidnapper said as she passed out! “well that’s spooky”, scully notes, and mulder replies “that’s my name, isn’t it?” <- LMAO

OH GET THIS: Lucy was kidnapped when she was 8 for FIVE YEARS!!!! until she was found by the side of the road. HUH??? THE PLOT IS THICKENING. same guy…? scully seems very deep in thought

first thing lucy says upon their entrance: “i’d like a cigarette” in the hospital. queen i think there are laws against this but idk 💔

they explain that amy said those same words about spoiling it for us at the same time she did, and lucy has a thoughtful look on her face then says no, i know nothing about it. NOT BUYING IT!

paused on scully’s face to take notes and she really is just so beautiful huh.

lucy asks when she can leave and they say um probs when the doctor says you can. and she’s like, no they said it was up to you. so they’re like uh yeah you can go. this is very exciting and she doesn’t even change before she leaves.

CREEPY MAN ALERT. he’s on the side of the road with a busted tire and a tow guy offers to change it for him for $10. a screaming deal! until this fellow picks up a crowbar looking thing and screams LEAVE ME ALONE and chases him away!!! deeply suspicious behaviors. tow guy calls him a freak as he drives away. a very rare deserved case of calling someone a freak as you drive by them.

back at the station, the lead agent or whatever his title is tells mulder that lucy and her boyfriend have a criminal record, but mulder doesn’t think she’s involved. i’d have to agree, but maybe i’m easily fooled.

“mulder, i got something- something weird” scully strides in the room and announces. and i’m thinking, YEAHHHH BABY, WE LOVE THAT AROUND THESE PARTS!!!

so, here is the weird stuff: lucy had two types of blood on her shirt that night… so scully is gonna test and see if there was a match to amy’s. but mulder doesn’t want lucy treated as a suspect, so he says to try and keep that quiet.

now we’re at a halfway house. a guy is going up some stairs whilst lucy shivers in bed. she has scratches all over her face and complains about being unable to see. and it looks like she has the same scratches as the girl in the creepy guy carl’s hole!!!

mulder rolling up to the halfway house. he asks to take lucy to dinner, as the paramedics say she is probably better now after her episode.

she is going to town on some soup and insisting that she is clean, and you can even ask henry about this. she is very insistent that she CANNOT help amy, but he is trying to gently be like. well... maybe you CAN. and she says: NO.

back in the hole, amy is having pictures taken of her. and screaming

at the station. mulder is watching a video of lucy from 1978 where she is crying on the ground and also screaming. her eyes were hypersensitive to the light when she finally escaped from her kidnapping all those years ago. it’s honestly very upsetting to watch.

oh!! scully has a break in the case: all the school photos were sent out EXCEPT amy’s. and the assistant was fired THAT DAY AFTER THE SHOOT. his name is CARL. and he spent the last 15 years institutionalized “for a bipolar condition”. well would that make him not a suspect for whoever took lucy…? i can’t do math. but if she got back in ‘78 then it would be possible, right? because idk when s3 takes place. anyway, mulder’s gonna show the photo to lucy and see if she knows him.

(i groan when a story makes a villain bipolar or have any other mental health issue to enhance their ~scariness~. it’s cliche, it’s perpetuating harmful stereotypes, and it’s bad writing. i was mentally throwing tomatoes at the screen)

carl is leaving and he left amy in the basement. is this her chance to break free? or is it a trick. she finds a hole in the wall sealed with some wood and starts to rip it up

back to lucy cam. mulder is trying to get her to stop running away and he grabs her shoulder and she says “DON’T TOUCH ME. i don’t like to be touched” this is understandable and he apologizes.

anyway, he shows her carl’s photo, and she starts to run away again, indicating that she does, in fact, know who it is.

back to amy cam. she’s trying to break free, but he is coming back in his car! he hears her trying to get out and sees her running out the window. she is running!!! into the woods!!! run run run run!!!

lucy is also running.

but no!!! they both fall!!! mulder picks lucy up. nooooo, amy failed her escape attempt :(

but upon seeing the photo, lucy confirms that it IS the same guy that took her way back when. she says she feels like she’s going through it all over again.

however, scully and the cops are at the door! lucy is suspicious. reveal: THE BLOOD ON THE UNIFORM WAS AMY’S!!! mulder is saying she didn’t do it, but scully says it’s concrete evidence. unless you believe in the migration of blood.

carl is explaining to amy that she shouldn’t have run. she asks for some water. is she gonna make another break for it? no. she does not. but she does ask for her mom and also for her to please not die here. it’s very sad.

mulder throws out a theory: maybe lucy bled out amy’s blood. it’s a stretch. “i hate to say this mulder, but i think you just ran out of credibility” <- girl i think that was a while ago.

i jest, but it appears scully does not. yowch. okay, yeah, bleeding someone else’s blood is a little rough in terms of an idea, but some thoughts we try and keep inside our heads in terms of our pals having wild theories.

OHHHH... scully insinuating that he is seeing his sister in lucy, and that is why he cannot see her as the perpetrator when all the evidence points to it…. oh i felt chills... or some sort of adjacent negative experience. bad feelings washed upon me.

he says that not every single thing he does or says is traced back to his sister but… i’m actually not gonna agree with him on that one. anyway, he’s mad at her. and i would be too tbh!

someone is coming in to the station who saw carl. it’s the tow guy!! and he was spotted heading near the place lucy was found years ago!!!

carl witnesses the cops racing off to his place. but the agents go to the photo store to see if he has an account. not a bad idea on behalf of mulder.

although, we don’t even know if they go in because next they are ambushing carl’s property. and they see the trap door!!! is she in there??? and she is!!!

WAIT NO. IT’S LUCY?? everyone is confused.

okay, so they DID go to the photo store, because they have the photos of amy that were taken in the basement… i see now. i am listening and learning.

the cop guy wants to take lucy into custody because she can’t say why she is at the crime scene, but mulder is like “no i’ll take her” and scully tells the cop dude it’s alright. so now she must see what he was saying. he’s walking lucy out. and she’s saying that carl hasn’t touched amy, and then she starts shivering and coughing, saying she is cold and wet. and mulder’s touching her….

he says lucy is trying to tell them amy’s in a river, so they try to go there. and then when carl dunks amy underwater, lucy starts spitting up water!!! and then drowning in the car on land.

agents are running in the woods.

they find carl, and mulder shoots him. then he runs off holding amy. so he starts doing mouth to mouth and she’s doing chest compressions and lucy is coming back to life?? maybe?? no.

scully is trying to tell him to stop because she’s dead, but he won’t, and they actually come to blows about it. he’s sitting there all soggy and wet and crying. but then she finally starts coughing!!!

mulder learns that lucy was also dying, and he gets all freaked out and runs back to her. and lucy is, in fact, dead. he’s touching her face as water pours out of her and she’s crying. mulder is full on kneeling at her dead body and sobbing. and damn, if this moment didn't get me right in the chest.

scully shows up to the halfway house, where mulder is sitting on lucy’s bed with a bunch of pictures of her. scully says amy had NO INJURIES and she can’t explain it, but nobody wants to talk about it because everyone is relieved to have her back. and it turns out lucy drowned. despite being on land.

“mulder, whatever there was between them, you were part of that connection, did you think about that?” <- AUGH (girl who is in pain as scully tries to put into words how important he is to not just her, but the whole world)

but he says that dying was pretty much all amy could do to escape from her past. and i'm thinking, well, if this whole episode has been a way to comment on your past... what exactly are you saying? because i'm hearing things i don't like. what about the power of healing and friendship? have we tried this?

i’m not sure how i feel about this episode, so i want to hear your thoughts even more than usual. actually, i am pretty sure that i didn't like it. i love a good character-centric episode, and this was definitely a mulder episode, but i felt that scully was really sidelined. like REALLY sidelined. to the extent she felt almost mean, with the losing credibility comment and trying to get him to stop doing CPR and bringing his sister up into it. on the other hand, though, she did seem to accurately describe the situation as himself projecting his past onto these people. it was pretty clear that was the case no matter how much denial he had going on.

luckily, in long form content like this, when something is written that feels out of character, i have an ease of just ignoring it i feel is usually denied in tighter season or movies. like yeah, everyone has an episode or two where their favorite character acts weird as hell. i could already point to a couple episodes on mulder’s behalf- cough cough genderbender cough cough 3- so maybe this will even out the tally of agents doing stuff that feels wrong. and like those episodes, i can ignore them. i am the rememberer and when i need to i am also the forgetter.

(now, you may present an argument to me that these actions WERE in character for scully. and i will not deny you the chance to present that argument my way. i shall hear out cases with a fair and impartial nature. but my opinions have been voiced)

characterization aside. this was another dark episode with almost no lightheartedness. there were a few things i giggled early on, like the way she just announced his name when they’re reunited, but other than that… childhood kidnapping? a real bummer. also, their psychic connection wasn’t even explained. it didn’t seem to follow any sort of logic at all. she would just… snap into it sometimes and then out of it. but you couldn’t really tell why she’d snap into it beyond it seemed moments where amy was in danger. but like. when you’re kidnapped you’re basically in danger 24/7. so: ???

and the transmutation of physical injury. they said that amy had no injuries, but we could see she had the same face cuts and scrapes as lucy. so are they ignoring that or are we thinking that lucy dying absorbed all that damage…?

mulder also ends the episode saying that he thinks death was the only way lucy could escape her suffering, which has troubling implications for his own character and those who love him.

hmm. idk, i just don’t think i liked this one. i’m learning that i find children being hurt less campy and fun than aliens and bigfoot. a good scary episode can be that, both good and scary, but i didn’t feel scared because it still was fantastic in nature. when there was a real scary episode- i’m thinking of irresistible in s2- the reason that felt so scary was because it WAS an entirely human, no supernatural elements at all, spooky episode. and that was the whole point; that episode was used to explore scully’s greatest fears, her struggle with being unable to control every aspect of life, trying to grasp who she can and cannot trust, and the depths to which the human soul can descend. so we had something similar going on here, except that lucy was taking amy’s damage, and you can see how that sort of transmigration makes for a harder sell on the commentary of the evil things humans can accomplish, no?

hmm. again, please let me know. i actually might look this one up, because ever since i learned that there are wikipedia episodes for every single episode, i have mostly neglected that fact to avoid audience ratings sullying my own hot takes on the subject. but this one has me curious.

#i always want insight into how our character’s handle grief i just feel like this was a weird way to do it #idk chat y’all r gonna have to tell me what you think!!!#juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

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thescarlettbitch · 2 months

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Rating songs on Inanna's Playlist

Inanna is like me, in that she enjoys a wide variety of music, some surprised me. Some did not.

I Eat Boys Like You For Breakfast by Riot Grrrl Sessions - 10/10 absolute banger, perfect amount of feminine rage

Bottom of the River by Delta Rae - 9/10 spooky witch vibes, feels like the ancestors are singing along

I'm so Hot by Chrissy Chlapecka - 10/10 she loves a good love yourself song

Praying Mantis by FKA Rayne - 10/10 a banger she likes biting the heads off of predators

Man's World by Marina - 10/10 I don't wanna live in a man's world anymore

All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You by Halestorm - 100/10 Halestorm is my top artist on Spotify for two years in a row and this song is about having sex and falling in love.

Freak by Zand - 100/10 YES queer energy at its FINEST QUEER ANGER <3

How Do Girls Even Do It by Childbirth - lesbians making fun of straight guys asking how they have sex 100000/10

Have Mercy by The Judds - 5/10 good song, total genre shift and it's about begging a man to have mercy and stop treating the woman like shit? I don't know why she likes it

Pink Push-Up Bra by Scene Queen - 100/10 she loves all of her music it's feminine and also angry

So American by Olivia Rodrigo - 10/10 she loves love songs, and she likes that I (an american) associate the song with my fiancé (british)

Raspberry Beret by Prince - 10/10 the vibes are immaculate queer icon singing about sex

Deeper Than The Holler by Randy Travis - also a love song 10/10 country does love songs better I'm not sorry this is one I sing to my fiancé all the time

World Burn from The Mean Girls Broadway musical - 10/10 revenge!!! Feminine rage!!

Do You Wanna Touch by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts - 100000/10 sex song beautiful I love Joan Jett

Lunch by Bilkie Eilish - 10/10 wlw unite <3

Respect by Aretha Franklin - 1000/10 I love it she loves it it's beautiful

Time Warp from Rocky Horror Picture Show - queer icon movie musical from the 70s perfect 10/10 she loves watching the movie I love the movie and also associate it with my fiancé

Labour by Paris Paloma - 10/10 she loves the cacophony version too

FU In My Head by CloudyJune - 10/10 songs about women admiting their fantasies <333

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eyeslikewatercoolers · 11 months

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Four Halloweens-Sashnetra

Happy spooky season! Set in the Wedding Planner AU, here's four Halloween-themed drabbles in different points in Sasha's life.

Thank you to @kitty-padilla for betaing ❤️

Featuring Beyoncé, Shark Tale, Pregnetra, and the search for the bestest pumpkin ever.

read on ao3

Sasha age 19, Halloween

This was Sasha’s first Halloween as herself, so she had to make it count this year.

Actually, this was her first Halloween ever, but that was beside the point.

Sasha’s been waiting nearly her whole life to wear a costume that she felt like Sasha in, so this would be a big moment for her.

Except that she had no idea what she wanted to be for Halloween. Or where she would wear said costume.

It took several weeks to scrounge up enough money to cover a costume. She took out some of the money she earned from her (very small) wedding photography side business.

But Sasha will worry about that later. First, she needed to scope out the local Spirit Halloween store and see their options.

Walking through the women’s section, Sasha wasn’t too impressed by the choices. Cheerleader, Disney princesses, and an entire wall of random skimpy costumes. She wouldn’t be opposed to wearing these specific costumes, if she was a little bit further into her transition and was happier with her body.

Sasha walked out of the store empty-handed and disappointed. As she turned on her old clunker of a car, the radio came to life with the top 40 station she always kept on. Upon listening to Beyoncé on the stereo system, she knew immediately what her costume would be.

Know that I can't get over you 'Cause everything I see is you And I don't want no substitute Baby I swear it's Déjà Vu

Sasha pulled into the nearest Goodwill and excitedly walked inside. She immediately went straight to the women’s section, dodging any older women who gave her a look for interrupting their shopping.

She searched through all the options on the rack and instantly gravitated to a shimmering silver dress. It’ll be some work for her, but it was the perfect option.

A blonde woman around her age looked at the dress from where she stood at the other end of the rack.

“That’s a real pretty one you found.” she said, with a deep Southern twang to her voice. “It’ll make you feel amazing, I promise.” She lowered her voice for only Sasha to hear.

This girl was just like her. Her hair was growing past her shoulders, and her makeup brought the feminine features out of her face.

“It’s gorgeous, but I’m using it for my Halloween costume,” Sasha explained. “But maybe I’ll try it on first, just to see it for myself.” She and the girl shared a knowing smile.

“It was nice to meet you, I’m Kylie.” The blonde said after they both checked out.

“Sasha.” She smiled brightly at her new friend.

After several days of cutting the dress and hand-sewing it back together, Sasha made it into a top and short skirt. She curled her hair into tight spirals and put on her outfit in an excited rush. When she looked at herself in the full-length mirror, a wide grin never left her face.

Sasha grabbed her camera from its case and started snapping pictures of her poses in the mirror. She had nowhere to wear this outfit, but she did not care if no one saw her right now.

Maybe one day she’ll have someone to share the holiday with, but for right now, this Halloween was all for herself.

Sasha age 27, Halloween

“What are you wearing?”

“No, what are you wearing?”

This was Sasha’s first Halloween together with her girlfriend, so they planned to wear matching couple’s costumes. But with whatever Anetra was wearing? Sasha was left very confused.

“You said you were going to be Lola for Halloween. Both you and Marcia told me about it!” Sasha said, crossing her arms.

“I am Lola,” Anetra said as she showed off her long white, flowy dress with thin red lines running horizontally over it. “That’s her name, isn’t it?”

“Baby, nobody calls her by her name. Everyone calls her the sexy fish from Shark Tale!” Sasha said with a playful smile. She knew Anetra grew up very sheltered and only started watching non-Christian movies soon before they started dating.

But she didn’t think Anetra was this out of touch with her generation.

“Oh,” Anetra said, eyes slightly downcast. “Is that why you chose that costume?” she asked.

Sasha nodded. “I assumed you meant Lola Bunny. So I wanted to surprise you with a Jessica Rabbit.” she gestured to the red, sparkly gown that she and Kylie worked on together making for the past week.

“We should have talked a bit more about this, huh?” Anetra said as she crossed her arms, slightly closing herself off.

Sasha nodded, “It’s too late for us to find a second option too.”

She and Anetra have only been together for six months, so their communication wasn’t perfect just yet. They were still in the very beginning of this relationship, and this was just a small roadblock for them.

Sasha reached out to hold Anetra’s hand, “It’ll be okay, maybe it’s going to be like a little inside joke for us?” she offered as the front door to her apartment opened, letting in Luxx and Marcia.

“Look at our Shark Tale group! We are so winning the costume contest,” Luxx said before their eyes landed on Sasha.

Silence fell between all four of them. Luxx was dressed in a fitted and bedazzled blue and yellow tracksuit, and Marcia wore a hooded shark-themed mini-dress.

Anetra spoke up, “At least you’ll be the hottest Jessica Rabbit there," she said as an offering to Sasha.

“Next year we’ll be sexy M&M’s. Easy, simple, and no confusion,” Sasha said as she grabbed her purse, ready to go to the party.

Sasha age 34, Halloween

Pulling her car into the garage next to Anetra’s (tarp-covered) motorcycle, Sasha felt mentally exhausted. For the autumn being the off-season for weddings, she had just put a busy day at the bridal shop behind her.

She met with several winter (and some Valentine’s Day) brides, helped with alterations while Loosey was out sick, and oversaw a Halloween-themed ceremony and reception.

She was mentally and physically exhausted, but it was a Friday and Halloween night. Kerri was going to a classmate’s party, and then spending the night with Jasmine.

Sasha looked forward to having a quiet night in with her wife as they would set up a bowl of candy outside, letting trick-or-treaters help themselves.

Tonight would be one of the last nights they’d have alone until their baby arrived in a couple more weeks. Both of them were needing a quiet and relaxing night before life with a newborn took over.

After putting her purse on the hook and placing her shoes under the bench in the mud room, Sasha followed a pair of voices down the hall toward her daughter’s bedroom.

Except the hallway bathroom with the light still on caused her a quick detour. She was about to feel for the light switch but looked in shock at the state of the bathroom.

Orange paint was in almost every spot. It was in streaks around the sink, the toilet, and some on the floor. Some of it was mixed with green paint and some with brown. Upon closer inspection, the paint looked like it was from a face paint kit.

“What’s with all the paint in the bathroom?” Sasha stood in the doorway to Kerri’s bedroom, looking at the two teenagers sitting on the bed, cross-legged.

“One second, Mama. We’re doing eye makeup here.” Kerri said without turning around, holding an eyeliner pencil to Jasmine’s eye.

While she waited, Sasha walked closer to the room. Makeup was scattered around the bed, but none of it looked like face paint. Their costumes were hung against the closet door, as the two were still in their clothes from school.

When Kerri finished, she looked at her mother, “We haven’t been using paint today, so I have no idea where it came from,” She shrugged as she looked at her lip glosses.

Sasha sighed, realizing that this was the not-as-easy part of being the parent of a teenager. “So neither of you know why there’s orange paint all over the bathroom?”

Both teenagers shook their heads, “We’ve been in Kerri’s room since we got back from school,” Jasmine added.

“I’ll just ask your mom then if she knows,” Sasha said as she walked back to the doorway, before turning back. “Where is she, anyway?”

“I think I heard her and Marcia go to the backyard a while ago.” Kerri said before picking up a small bottle of setting spray, turning her attention back to Jasmine, “Now, close your eyes and hold still.”

Several minutes later, Sasha opened the French doors to the backyard and saw Marcia and Anetra sitting in the still-green grass. Marcia sat directly in front of Anetra, while Anetra was facing away from Sasha’s view.

“One last line and...” Marcia said with a face of concentration. “…done!” she said, holding up a paintbrush with orange paint on it.

“Is that why the bathroom is covered in face paint?” Sasha asked, and the two turned to look at her. Despite the mess, she couldn’t help but smile at the two.

“Sash! Look what Marcia made!” Anetra looked at her excitedly, trying to carefully move herself around to show her rounded bump to her wife. Painted on her outstretched skin was a detailed pumpkin with a brown stem and green leaves on the outer edges.

“It looks nice, but why?”

“I know we agreed on no costumes this year, but I’ve been so bored waiting for this baby to come. We found this kit when we went shopping today and decided to put it to use.” Anetra smiled as she looked at the painting on her round belly, still holding up her shirt.

“I’ll go get my phone so we can take pictures!” Marcia jumped up and started walking back into the house.

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Sasha asked her.

Marcia turned around to see Anetra struggling to get off the ground, trying to maneuver her pregnant belly into a place where she could stand up. Sasha helped Marcia by grabbing one of Anetra’s hands and pulling her up to stand.

The bathroom could wait until later to be cleaned. For now, she might as well join in on the Halloween fun.

Sasha age 37, (a few days before) Halloween

“What about this one?”

“Too big.”

“This one?”

“Too lumpy.”

“How about this one here?”

“'Netra, I think that one is a gourd.”

“Oh.”

Sasha watched her wife’s face fall slightly as she placed the round gourd back on the ground. Feeling slightly bad for correcting her, Sasha placed a peck on Anetra’s cheek when their daughter wasn’t looking.

“It’s not your fault that toddlers are so picky.” Sasha pointed out as they continued to search through the pumpkin field. They had meant to spend the whole day doing different activities at the local farm that held a seasonal pumpkin patch, but they’d been stuck looking for ‘The bestest pumpkin ever.’

“It doesn’t help that she’s a little perfectionist like her Momma.” Anetra retorted, giving Sasha a pointed look.

Sasha knew that her wife was right. Their daughter always colored inside the lines, hated her food touching and had to have her toys sitting from biggest to smallest. Delia might look like the mini version of Anetra, but Sasha really rubbed off on her personality.

They watched as Delia carefully examined the pumpkins. The rest of the guests at the pumpkin patch slowly left to get on the hay rides back to the front of the farm.

“I’ll go talk to her, and you go get us a good spot on the next hay ride,” Sasha told her wife as they parted ways.

Sasha kneeled in front of the pumpkin that Delia just moved onto, and carefully rolled it out of the way.

“I can’t find the bestest pumpkin.” The toddler looked at her, worry growing in her eyes.

Sasha held her hands out with the palms up, inviting Delia to hold hands with her. Smaller hands were enveloped by larger ones, and Delia had her full attention.

“I’m sorry, Dee, but the pumpkins aren’t grown to be perfect.”

“They aren’t?”

Sasha shook her head, “Nope. Pumpkins are like people. A lot of us aren’t born with what we like about ourselves, but we can change things to make us happy. Like how we carve pumpkins to give them smiles.”

“What do you mean, Momma?” Delia asked.

Sasha and Anetra weren’t ready to dive fully into explaining everything about trans people to their toddler, but luckily she hasn’t asked yet. They’ve collected some advice from other trans parents, so they were prepared when the time came.

Sasha looked over at Anetra standing at the front of the trailer, waiting for the hay ride to start. Then she got the perfect idea for an explanation.

“You know how Mommy has red hair and we have brown hair?” Sasha asked, to which Delia nodded.

“She actually was born with brown hair like us. But she realized that she is happier with red hair, so she keeps it that color.”

“Mommy’s hair isn’t really red?” Delia looked back at her in shock.

“Nope, but don’t tell her I told you.” Sasha playfully tapped Delia’s nose as she stood back up. “Now let’s find a pumpkin that we can make the bestest.”

The pumpkin they found had a too-short stem and leaned when sat upright, but they later cut and carved it into the bestest jack-o-lantern just for them.

#sashnetra #wedding planner au #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr s15 #my fics #my writing

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sunny6677 · 1 year

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Spookytale

(An Undertale x Spooky Month crossover)

Chapter 12: Strange Bullets.

Summary: After an incident involving the whole town getting hypnotized(besides Skid) and falling into a hole, all of them find themselves in a place that will change their life forever.

TWS: PROFANITY.

————

"Alright.." John gruffly sighed.

Before any of them could have known it, six adults were separately standing before separate six patches. Jack had been standing to the one on the top left, Lila had been standing before the middle of the top patches, and John had been standing before the top patch on the right. Ethan had been standing before the one on the bottom left, Streber had been standing before the one in the middle of the bottom row, and Kevin had been standing before the one on the bottom right.

"Now you kids stay here with Jaune, alright?" John spoke from behind his hairy mustache, glancing at the kids who had been faithfully guarded by Jaune. Jaune stood from behind them, glancing around and making sure none of them would be harmed in any way whatsoever. "This shouldn't take too long." John tried to say, looking down at the patch he was standing before. He had to admit, he never pictured that falling down the hole would lead to.. this.

"Be careful, alright, son?" Lila called out from where she was standing, worry glistening in her feminine eyes. Skid responded from where he had been standing(which was to Pump's left), "Okay, mom! You be careful!" ("I'll protect him, girl. I promise." Jaune was heard saying from where she stood.)

Lila sighed, and then replied with the most reassuring smile she could muster, "I will, sweetie! I'll be back in a few minutes, okay? I promise!"

Finally, after a few seconds, John took a step closer to the patch he was standing before. His eyes laid upon it, determination flickering in the glint of his pupils. He then spoke, "Alright.. on the count of three, we're all gonna head into the patches." The adults who had been standing before the patches nodded, though somewhat nervously. Even the children and Jaune looked a bit nervous.

"One.." John began.

"Two.." John took a step closer to his patch, as everyone hesitated before the one they stood in front of.

...

"Three.." John finally managed to say, though rather slowly. John began to walk toward his patch, as everyone in front of the patches hesitated. John then took one singular step onto the patch he stood in front of, and before he knew it..

...he sunk in.

...

After a few seconds of silence.. the adults took a step into their patch that they stood in front of, and began to sink in as well.

————

Ethan had certainly not ever thought falling to what he thought would be his death would lead to any of this, and yet, it did. As he sunk into the shadows, he slowly found himself hitting the ground with a sudden loud and horrible thud. Bright light filled his vision as he hesitantly opened his eyes, barely managing to seep in as he let out a grunt of slight pain. "Shit.. that hurt.." He uttered, groaning in slight agony as his palms barely rested on the floor. He clenched his hands as the side of his face continued to rest on the floor for a moment. But as he opened his eyes, he could make out the new environment surrounding him.

It was a small room, slightly cramped even. The familiar purple brick walling was still present, but the room was so small it almost felt like he was in a house bathroom or something. Though as his brightly lit vision began to clear, he.. saw what looked like an item a few feet from where he was laying.

He groaned. No matter how much pain Ethan felt, he had to get up. This was what he needed to do. For the sake of getting everyone out of here, and into a safely guarded shelter that Toriel would most likely provide, he had to do this. He was determined, he felt it in his veins.

After slowly wobbling to his feet, he squinted his eyes, and got a better look at the room. To his right, there appeared to be a large pile of red leaves for no apparent reason. But he then saw what the item he had seen had been. It had been.. a red ribbon, most likely a bow for wearing behind someone's hair. It looked a little worn down, but it seemed in perfect condition. Hell, it looked almost adorable. Could it have belonged to a child? Maybe a child monster? Could monsters even have children?

Ethan slowly walked up to the ribbon, and placed it in his palm. He observed it for a moment, his dark gaze not flinching once. What was he to do with it? If it belonged to someone, then why was it here? Could a monster have lost it while they accidentally fell down one of the patches?

If that was the case, Ethan felt a strong need to return it. But.. how would he do that? How would he keep carrying it around with him when he could easily lose it to a monster?

Ethan looked behind himself, and his eyes widened a little. He saw a narrow, dark door. Could it have been the exit? He could only assume so, for that was most likely how Jack got back out of the patches earlier.

He then looked back at the ribbon.

An idea sprang into his head.

He knew how he would keep it equipped for the rest of the journey.

————

Streber felt himself land onto the purple ground with a harsh thud, his face barely facing the ground and his fists clenched. His eyes were closed, and he let out a pained groan. "Agh.. fuck.." Streber cursed under his breath. He barely opened his eyes, though even if they were open now, he already knew that his glasses must have fallen off as he fell. He slowly grabbed them the best he could, though he sort of struggled to do so. As his hand barely aimed for it, he finally clenched it in his hands, and put it back on. He had to admit, he didn't know how on earth it didn't break from the sheer weight of the fall. Either way, he found himself at least grateful.

Streber then realized after his vision cleared that he was in an unfamiliar room. It was small, cramped even. And in front of him, he saw a big pile of leaves, though there were no leaves to its left. And from what it appeared, the leaves were nearing the middle of the room. He knew he had landed to the right of the room, so he managed to narrowly miss it. But as he glanced to the side, he blinked. Streber realized.. there was a familiar transparent white figure there.

It.. it was the ghost from earlier! But.. how did it get down here? Why.. why was it down here? He knew it most likely floated down here or something, considering it was a ghost after all. But either way, after a split second of silence, he began to slowly stumble to his feet. Determination fueled him, as he wanted to know what exactly the ghost was doing down here.

He began to approach the ghost after he managed to get to his feet, stumbling a little as his head felt a bit pained from the sheer fall he had managed to brace. After a few more steps, he was standing a few feet before the ghost. Streber then finally found the question he wanted to ask echoing from his throat, "He—Hey.. you're that ghost from earlier!"

The ghost barely looked at him, and replied in its wistful and miserable voice, "..oh.. it's you.. hi.."

A few seconds of quiet went by. Streber then inquired in the most friendly tone he could muster, "Uh.. what are you doing down here?"

The ghost replied, it's voice echoing slightly, "I fell down a hole.. now I can't get up..."

Streber raised a brow, and said in a genuinely puzzled tone, "Wh.. what? But—but you're a ghost—"

The ghost spoke again, "..go on without me.. wait, ghosts can fly, can't they.. oh well.. sorry.. I'll be out of your way.."

The ghost then began to slowly vanish. The last thing Streber managed to utter before it went away was, "W—Wait! Don't go yet, I—"

It was gone.

Streber let out a sigh. "So much for talking to it again.. I hope it doesn't think I hate it or something."

Streber then looked to the side, and then behind himself. He blinked, noticing a narrow door with a shadowy abyss contained inside. After a few seconds, he realized it must have been the exit. If there was no switch down here, he most likely didn't need to be down here for long. "Well.. I guess that's my cue to get out of here." Streber sighed again.

He then approached the door, and after a few hesitant steps inside of its shadowy abyss..

..he felt himself ascending back up, nearly losing his glasses in the process.

————

Kevin felt himself falling to the ground with a horrible thud, landing on the side of his body as he clenched his fists in slight pain. "Oww..." He grumbled, shutting his eyes in physical anguish. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were tightly shut as he gritted his teeth. He tried to contain himself from screaming out of sheer pain, but the urge was so strong. Alas, he managed to pull himself together anyway, for he had to be determined in a situation like this. He was needed right now, he couldn't keep writhing in agony for long.

But as he opened his eyes, he saw what looked like an item barely emerged from the purple ground. It was light brown, and green at the top. It.. looked like a carrot almost, or a pineapple. Kevin only knew it must have been some kind of vegetable. He found his stomach growling at the sight. He hadn't eaten ever since he got down here. He was desperate for any form of consuming so he could satisfy his hunger. Kevin honestly hoped he wouldn't scream in pure joy when he got to Toriel's house, for she must have had food.. right?

Kevin then slowly sat up, resting his hand against his forehead as he looked at the item. Perhaps he could investigate? What if it was a secret switch or something? To be fair, he wouldn't have been surprised if there was a switch inside of a vegetable. With how weird this place was and all. "Maybe it's food?"

"Maybe.. I can at least.. try and see if its food." Kevin muttered to himself. He then slowly lifted himself up, dragging his foot along the ground for a split moment. As he finally stood, he only remained still for a split second of hesitation. What if it was not food?

...

He was too hungry to even think about it.

He slowly walked up to it, perhaps thinking that he could show it to the others when he got out of the room. He could give it to them. It wouldn't be much of a meal, but it would be worth something, right?

Kevin bent down, and extended out his arm, attempting to grab the vegetable by what he only assumed was the top leaves. But.. before he could, the vegetable suddenly began to emerge more. Emerging from out of the earth, and into existence. Kevin let out a slight yell of surprise, not exactly expecting for that to happen.

He then heard a soft giggle emerge from the vegetable.

Kevin froze. It was alive. It was a monster! He took a few steps back, his hands shaking a little out of the anxiety of the unexpected encounter.

The vegetable slowly turned around. It appeared to have two sets of black and narrow eyes with no pupils inside, and a cheshire grin with no teeth. It let out a soft cackle, turning to him. He.. he was in another fight. He was fighting something, but.. he was alone this time. What was he to do?

...

Kevin remembered Toriel's words, and most of what he was doing so far. This wasn't any different because he was alone. He knew exactly what he was to do, or at least he thought he did.

He took a brave step foward as it made strange noises at him, as it emerged from the ground and began to drag itself closer to him. "Farmed locally.." The vegetable monster for whatever reason uttered, "..very locally."

A look of confusion crossed Kevin's face. What did that mean? But before he could speak again, he found floating vegetables and fruits being flung at him. He let out a shriek, narrowly dodging them as they were thrown. He only assumed it was the vegetable monsters doing, since he had no other explanation for it. Kevin's face flushed a warm embarrassed red, as he found himself doing odd poses as he tried to dodge. Yet even so, his eyes widened.

As the vegetables were thrown on the ground, they vanished. Like they weren't even real. That was.. odd. How did monster.. powers or magic even work?!

Even so, he cleared his throat, and tried to speak. He sounded scrawny and almost pathetic. "Li—Listen, I don't wanna fight.. can we just.. ta—talk this out?"

The vegetable went quiet for a moment. It then spoke, "Plants can't talk, dummy."

Before Kevin could respond, he found vegetables being flung at him again. He narrowly dodged, afraid of what was to happen if they did hit him. He kept letting out shrieks. If talking wouldn't work, then what would?

As the vegetables vanished, he went back into a defensive state, just incase. Then, his stomach let out a grumble, sounding almost disgusting. His stomach was growling again. Kevin's face quickly became an embarrassed red again, and he rubbed his stomach in slight shame with his hand. He nervously laughed, "..uhh.. heheh.. sorry about that."

The vegetable monster tilted its head. This seemed to catch its attention. It then dragged itself closer, and spoke in its odd voice, "Eat your greens."

Kevin wasn't able to respond, for then, vegetables were flung at him again. He began to dodge again, shrieking a little less. Though a peculiar sight was what he then saw. There were.. bright green vegetables. He swiftly ducked to dodge it, but he was a few seconds too late. A bright green vegetable was thrown at his head. But.. it vanished away as it did. And.. he didn't feel pain. If anything, he felt.. actually better, even if he had not been hit this entire fight. And his hunger felt.. soenwhat satisfied, actually.

He looked at the creature as it gave a mysterious smile. Did it just.. heal him? Or.. well.. did it try to?

Kevin stared at it for a few more seconds, before finally saying, "Listen.. I really don't wanna fight. I'm sorry if it came off that way.. I didn't mean to. Can we just let this pass?"

The monster did not speak for a moment. It seemed to be thinking to itself. He hoped inside that it wouldn't throw anymore vegetables at him, for he hated having to do that so. Then.. the monster raised itself up and down. Was.. was that it's way of nodding, or..?

Kevin then felt a smile beginning to form on his face as it began to head back to where it emerged from, though it was rather awkward and more relieved than anything. The monster than paused where it stood, and began to descend back into the ground.

In an awkward fashion, Kevin said while waving his hand the best he could, "Uh.. bye.."

The monster paused for a moment. A noise then slipped out from it which almost sounded like, "Bye..". It then finally descended back into the ground, vanishing.

Kevin paused, unsure of what to do now. He looked behind himself, and saw a narrow exit containing darkness. He assumed it must have been the exit.

After gulping, he swiftly turned around, and began to head toward it.

As he stepped inside the exit after approaching it..

..he felt himself ascending, and he let out a fearful shriek as he did so.

/////////////////

#spooky month #read the tws #spooky month au #kevin spooky month #skid spooky month #skid and pump #pump and skid #pump spooky month #streber spooky month #lila spooky month #john spooky month #jack spooky month #ethan spooky month #jaune spooky month #undertale #spookytale

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oogaboogaspookyman · 3 months

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Speaking of A Grim Place! I think i got the most important parts of Azalin's backstory, what she is, and the other stuff, in a way that i actually like! Woohoo!

So basically she's a mimic-esque creature that doesn't exactly mimic things, but rather she picks up quirks from them. Her species is getting named Amalgamus (if plural, Amalgami, like cactus/cacti) due to their whole gimmick being literally mixing bits and pieces of other identities and quirks.

She was found all alone in the forest by a "married" couple of criminals, and because they had the idea and need for a guard dog for their house and safety, they took her in.

She named herself Azalin after something she saw her owner dad read, prolly a magazine with the usual ladies in them, and took her feminine quirks from her owner mom, who she prefers most as the father was mostly busy with the couple's business and rarely interacted with Azalin aside from training her alongside his wife.

The whole big beefy spooky canine appearance was given to her in the form of pictures of hounds (the dogs in the dimension of Grimside) and was trained since her teens to become stronger and faster, the perfect guard dog. The perfect tool.

You can guess how she was treated her whole life ever since she was found and taken in...

And since then she's been the most useful beast in the family, being taken out for little "walks" (they're criminals, guess) and keeping every threat away from them, they became more powerful than ever.

Until a group of strange bipedal beings wearing peculiar clothes made themselves known... And on that day... Well, more so the next day after it did she find love, this one they fought (one getting beat up the most bc she was curiously getting distracted and caught off guard a bit too much (Azalin got taken down anyway))

Now the other stuff!

Amalgami are hermaphrodites! They were pushed to the brink of extinction in a period of time so they evolved hermaphrodite properties to reproduce faster and repopulate the species. This trait would never go away ever since, even after they recovered from the mass hunting.

Their whole gimmick is picking up traits from the surroundings they think they can make use of in their survival and living expirience. This would mean Azalin was taught to need some of the traits she has now.

That's all i have for now kay byeeeee AAAA

When i first made the concept of Amalgami in my head, i thought "that would mean Azalin likely uses it/its pronouns too". Fun thing y'know!

Amalgami lose their chosen form and shape and return to their original shapeless form when they lose all composure. If an Amalgamus breaks down in tears, their form will melt, distort, warp, parts fusing with each other, until they've become the thing they were before choosing its body. There's a reason i'm putting this here :)

#A Grim Place

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cayenne-twilight · 4 years

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Professor Layton Iceberg Explanation

As I said in the tags of the original, the iceberg I made was a meme consisting of both real theories and satire/parodies/fandom memes. If anyone is interested, I can work on an unironic version that only has real theories.

Buckle in because this post is LONG and heavily saturated with lore and information.

Actual theories

Parallel universe 1960s where the world wars didn’t happen. There’s an unused file in Curious Village that shows the year as 1960 and the time machine from UF is set to 1973, ten years into the future. The series canonically takes place in an undefined time period (hence the technological inaccuracies and fantasy elements), but it’s based off the 60s. There’s more evidence but we don’t have time to go over every little thing. I linked my “no wars” theory below but TL;DR the outdated airplanes and underdeveloped medicine in the Layton series imply that the world wars may never have happened. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632205992162099200/outofcontextdiscord-timegearremix-zonosils-war

The real meaning behind the statue in Future London. In UF, the purpose of the statue is to spark Layton and Luke’s conversation about their friendship. Luke is stressing out about moving overseas and sees himself and the professor in the story behind the statue, but in the bigger picture, Clive must have been the one to commission it. Some theorize that the little boy is Clive and the man is either his father or the professor. One idea I’ve seen is that Clive wishes he could be Luke for real, while another is that he wishes he died ten years ago, and another is that he’s literally terminally ill explaining why he doesn’t care about consequence. Personally, I think “the boy succumbed to his illness” refers to his mental illness seeing as he wanted the professor to save him from his madness as he saved him all those years ago.

True location of Monte D’Or. there are no deserts on the British isles to my knowledge, so it makes the most sense for Monte D’Or to be in Southwest USA where English is the default language, they have a desert, and there exists a city famous for flashy hotels, casinos, and entertainment. What makes it odd is that nobody ever mentions overseas travel, and all the major characters are from England.

Loosha’s origins are not explicitly explained if I remember correctly, but the implication was that her prehistoric (supposedly) species was sealed away along with the garden, allowing them to survive all the way to the time of LS until Loosha was the only one left. The garden provided a good habitat and protection from predators, and it’s logical that they’d slowly die out anyways, but there’s no explanation of any specific factors that led to Loosha being the last.

Beasley is not a bee I wrote a post about this one as well, but TL;DR Beasly lacks several defining bee traits whilst having several human ones. He is not human, yet, by definition, not a bee. It’s possible that he is the result of Dimitri’s testing, but whatever his untold story is, he remains an enigma of nature. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632381715250282496/theory-beasly-isnt-a-bee

Subject 2’s identity is currently unknown. There is a subject one (parrot) and subject 3 (rabbit) so there has to be a second. For a long time, people suspected Beasly to be him seeing as he’s a bit of an amalgamation and definitely not a regular bee (see above). After the release of LMJ, though, people began to suspect Sherl, the intelligent hound who could speak to certain people but not others. That being said, it’s possible for one to be subject 4. Sherl’s memory of a bright flash matches up with subject 3’s memory of being electrocuted. They never explain why the animals were being experimented on, but it was probably Dimitri making sure the conditions of his machine were safe for humans before reliving the incident from ten years ago.

Lady Violet died from the plague from DB. There’s no evidence for this or anything, it’s just an idea. People say she died from the flu but I don’t remember them saying that in the game, at least the US version. Extending off my “no war” theory: it’s theorized that the Spanish Flu was spread by the travlelling soldiers, so if that’s true, it’s possible for the epidemic to have been averted for some decades. Maybe the Spanish Flu reached England later than in real life. The hole in this is that DB’s plague must’ve been close in time to 1918 while Violet’s death was much later, so it would’ve had to stick around.

Bill Hawks is working with Targent and Arthur Cantabella. There was a force in the shadows buying the time machine technology from Bill. Someone with a ton of money who helped him cover up a freak accident and get away with it completely, a feat that involved shady means like violence by hired thugs. Some theorize that it was Targent, seeking power over time in exchange for a little mafia magic. The Labarynthia project was sponsored by the UK government, so as the PM, Bill must’ve known about it. He probably supported dubiously ethical, high stakes (witch pun) psychological experiments like Cantabella’s and helped him stay in the shadows.

All the NPCs in St. Mystere and Folsense are dead. I make fun of this type of theory later, but they’re admittedly captivating. I’m pretty sure the canon in CV is that the villagers are Bruno and Augustus’s OCs that they made robots of and built a town around, but it’s more interesting to think that the village was there before, and the townspeople died of a plague and were replaced like Lady Violet. In Folsense, there really was a plague and they never explain the NPCs there. They’re either real people who appear way younger than they are due to hallucinations (even the ones who already look old ?), or they don’t exist at all, which is pretty spooky. This part of the story is a gaping plot hole. In a similar vein to CV, the edgy yet plausible theory is that they used to live in Folsense but died of the plague and now live on as hallucinations.

Hershel seeing everything as a puzzle is a coping mechanism for all his trauma. This was a joke but I thought about it for more than five seconds and it makes way too much sense.

Plot holes and unexplained questions that we like to overthink because it’s fun

The downfall of the Azran was vaguely explained in canon by people being so greedy that it lead to the civilization collapsing. It’s not a stretch to imagine that happening, but it would’ve been more interesting with a little more detail.

Layton and Luke are programmed to routinely forget how to walk. I didn’t know whether to list this in the joke section or not, but it’s odd that the characters actively participate in the walking tutorial (as opposed to showing a little memo to the player) as if they didn’t know how to before, especially when they go through this several times a year.

The truth behind Pavel. He’s simply a joke character who teleports, is a polyglot (sort of, at least he wants us to think he is) and is mega confused all the time. He’s a fun character to make crack theories about because of his cryptic nature that even he doesn’t seem to understand.

Miracle Mask deleted scenes. The first trailer for MM featured animations that were not in the final game. One was the Randall falling scene, except in a slightly different style than the one we know. Others were completely foreign, like Layton and Luke pacing across a theatre stage as if Layton’s about to expose someone with a dramatic point. Cut content and “could’ve beens” are always curious to think about.

Evan Barde: secret mastermind. Arianna and Tony’s dad is a mysterious character who died under mysterious circumstances. I think the canon is that his death was a genuine accident, but concept art of him making a creepy evil face suggests that maybe he originally had a larger role in the first drafts of LS than the finished game.

The secret to how Paul and Des pull off their disguises is unclear and will remain unclear. There is no plausible explanation for their shape shifting. Unless Paul is just a little dude wearing a human suit like that one Wizard of Oz species and Des is the best quick-changer ever and hides his naturally feminine legs under his cloak.

Alfendi’s mom. When LBMR came out people scrambled to piece together who Hershel had a kid with, but there’s no way alfendi is his biological son. This happened with Kat as well and her biological parents turned out to be brand new characters, so I’m sure Al will get an adoption backstory if his arc continues, be his parents old major characters or nameless, faceless NPCs.

Granny Riddleton and Stachenscarfen are omnipotent deities. Idk which section this fits best under, but these two characters have some serious power. At first introduction, they’re implied to be robots, but they appear everywhere in later games. They follow the Professor wherever he goes and assist him on his adventures, GR collecting puzzles and housing them by some odd magic, and Stachen teaches you how to walk. They both introduce and supervise the gameplay. By extension, I guess this idea could apply to Albus as well in the prequels. GR and Stachen even had the power to appear in LMJ, something no major character could do. I consider them akin to the velvet room attendants from the Persona games.

Clive’s kill count is a vague subject in the game for the sake of keeping it PG. I don’t know if anyone’s ever mathematically estimated the damage he caused, and I sure don’t want to try, but the game appears to push the idea that he didn’t kill anyone at all, saying they stopped him in the nick of time and things like that, even though we watch him raze the city. If they ever want to bring him back post-time skip, I can see them twisting it so that the mobile fortress cutscene wasn’t a linear sequence of events, but instead a compilation of scenes over the course of hours so that London neighborhoods around him could be evacuated and have it make sense. Knowing Level-5, it’s more likely that they wouldn’t think this deep and do something more lazy, though.

Memes and references

Post-time skip Flora is real references the famous L is real theory from Super Mario 64. Like Luigi in SM64, Flora was also a highly anticipated character who didn’t appear in a new game, in this case LMJ or LMDA. In the end, Luigi did become real in the DS port so hopefully Flora is real will be realized as well.

Hershel can’t read is a veteran fandom meme referring to how in the first few games, especially Curious Village, Layton asks Luke to read every document out loud for him. Perhaps this was an exercise to improve Luke’s reading skills and independent thinking, or perhaps he was just too lazy or preoccupied to do it himself, but this grew into the joke that our genius Professor was actually illiterate this whole time.

Layton’s smash invitation is hidden in PLvsAA. It’s no secret that the fandom would kill a man to get the Professor into the smash brothers franchise. In PLvsAA one of the puzzle artworks features a goat eating a familiar white envelope with a red stamp, sparking the joke that either Layton or Wright got the invitation their respective fans desired, but it got lost along the way.

The science board is the mysteriously vague organization Don Paolo got kicked out of for the crime of being evil. It’s the epitome of liberal arts majors and art school graduates trying to bs their way around not knowing any science and failing miserably. “He was very good at all the sciences, but then the CEO of science told him to stop because he was using the power of science for evil science”. They do this again when “Dr. Stahngun” describes his time machine what with the soolha coils and whatnot.

Hoogland is death cult initiation is a parody of “Mario 64 is Freemason initiation” which is ridiculous, just like the creepy human sacrifice subplot of AL.

You can see the reflection of someone watching you in Aurora’s eye references the famous, creepy Talking Angela theory. In retrospect it would’ve been funnier if I said Angela instead of Aurora.

Every copy of Professor Layton is personalized references the famous “every copy of Super Mario 64 is personalized”

Clive’s fat ass in HD is a meme that originated from the announcement of UFHD, saying that half of the excited fans wanted to cry again while the other half were simply attracted to Clive. If we want to enter real bottom-section-of-the-iceberg-chart territory then let’s say Clive’s character has some sort of psychological siren properties that draw people to him like a magnet and/or Harry Styles.

Things I pulled out of my ass for shits and giggles

Infinite hint coin hack: I’m sure a tech savvy cheater could hack the game for infinite hint coins, but there’s no easy or interesting way. I don’t know why someone would do that though, considering a lot of the hints suck and there are puzzle guides on the internet.

Cringy, unused Randall villain monologue. This joke is derived from the actual scrapped MM content as well as deleted content being a popular element of iceberg charts, but it’s sadly not real. Would’ve been hilarious, though.

Last Specter Puzzle 031: Light Height tracks and records children’s intelligence level. It doesn’t, but it’s always fun to make fun of arguably THE most ridiculously difficult puzzle in the franchise. (Seriously, do they expect 7+ year olds to know trigonometry???)

Hershel struggles with tea addiction. Hershel from the games drinks tea in moderation, but the manga begs to differ. He has a tea set in the Laytonmobile, and an attempt at teatime while driving causes him to crash.

Folsense is a metaphor for Alzheimer’s. This is inspired by those edgy kids’ show theories where everyone’s in hell or something, but nobody has ever said this.

London Life is reality and the plot of the games is all in Luke’s head. That’s one way to fill every plot hole. How funny would it be if Luke made up crazy characters and stories based off his fellow townspeople Sharkboy and Lavagirl style. “This dude who lives in a castle and asks people to give him all their money for nothing in return is a vampire from 50 years ago involved in a tragic love story”.

Secret ending encoded into Tago’s Head Gymnastics. It’d be crazy if there was, and Dimitri would hound Tago for the secret to time travel. If you didn’t know, the Layton games started as an adaption of Akira Tago’s puzzle series, except they decided to add a story to make it more interesting and marketable.

Daily puzzles datamine your DS. I’m bad with technology but is it even possible to datamine a DS??? Idk, but I think my DS lite from 2008 is safe.

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gaycrouton · 3 years

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a priori

msr | post-milagro | 5.8k | ao3

What did Mulder and Scully each think when they read Padgett’s depiction of having sex with her?

When Mulder profiled her, was this fragile, uncertain woman what he saw?

Was he any better than Padgett when he dreamed about loving her?

Neither would be able to rest until they cleared things up.

When Scully was first partnered with Mulder, all she knew about him was his inclination towards 'spooky' behavior and the monograph he wrote on serial killers that she had to read as part of her Quantico training. Her professor at the time went on and on about his brilliant mind. How Fox Mulder's profiling abilities were unmatched to anyone he'd ever seen.

What would her partner think of her?

She remembered in her college English course when her professor taught her that if she was going to quote a piece of literature and it had an error in it, or if it didn't make sense in the context of the rest of the sentence, that she could fix it with square brackets and insert what she meant and the readers would denote it as her authorial voice fixing the error. She thought about that when recalling that line from Padgett's novel.

What would [Fox Mulder, her partner, the man she trusted above all else, the man who she loved despite years of trying to stifle it] think of her?

It was something she'd always wondered, and not only in the hypothetical context Padgett presented. Another writing tip about emphatic stressing of certain words in sentences through the use of italics came to mind from her college professor. How much a sentence could change based on what was stylistically emphasized.

What did her partner think of her?

She wanted to know it all.

Surely Mulder had profiled her over the years, and surely he knew how much it would piss her off, which is why he never told her about it. That wasn't to say Mulder occasionally overstepped occasionally - preemptively knowing how she'd feel before she even said anything. Sometimes Mulder was like an old woman who knew it was going to rain because her joints ached. Only, instead of rain, it was Scully's moods, and she could only wonder if it too was something bone deep.

It bothered her from time to time, made her feel naked. Everything she'd learned about profiling she'd learned from him in the most literal sense. He was her academic foundation at the academy, and then she'd learned a lot through seeing him in action over the years. Scully liked to think she knew Mulder better than he knew himself, but her skills paled in comparison to his. Her attempts to get into the mind of another were like Mulder picking up a knife to perform an autopsy.

She was certain about some aspects of him, though. Like his possessiveness and territoriality in regards to her. It was through Mulder's response that she knew whatever Padgett wrote was invasive and upsetting.

He was angry. Furious. Livid. She saw it in the way his nostrils flared and how his jaw clenched when they saw each other the next day after he'd had Padgett arrested. Scully could also tell he hadn't gotten much sleep and connecting A to B to C told her that he'd spent all night reading Padgett's novel.

She'd only read one chapter before deciding she should stop before she was too unsettled to sleep.

Preconsciously, she knew this wasn't her strength as an investigator. She was a marshall of cold facts, quick to organize, connect, shuffle, reorder and synthesize their relative hard values into discrete categories. Imprecision would only invite sexist criticism that she was soft, malleable, not up to her male counterparts.

Was that really why she relied on facts? Was broaching anything appearing like a subjective approach bound to make her seem emotional? Weak? Too feminine? Did she like cold hard facts because of their objectivity? The fact that someone could criticize her findings and it would be just that: a criticism of her findings rather than a criticism of her ability to interpret something rooted in emotions or empathy - as those would be a reflection of the most vulnerable parts of her mind? Her inability to open up and reveal her true self bleeding into her work?

Regardless, she hated this. She hated feeling open and vulnerable and exposed, like her heart had been cut and Padgett was using her blood instead of ink to write this novel, and that everyone who got a hold of his writing was getting a piece of her. Body, mind, and soul. Above all else, she hated how Padgett's words kept bouncing around in her head.

"You're curious about me."

"Motive is never easy, sometimes it occurs to one only later."

Scully hated that he was right. She was curious, but she had a hard time figuring out why. Was the reason Padgett intrigued her so much because he reminded her of a cheap, knockoff version of Mulder? After years spent wondering what Mulder-the-profiler saw he looked into her mind, was this author's interpretation of her scratching the itch of curiosity? Seeing Padgett's writing was the closest she had ever gotten to seeing someone try to understand her motivations. Are these the same conclusions Mulder would have come to? A woman so repressed, so unsure of herself, that the slightest bit of attention was all she needed?

Even being in Padgett's apartment felt like being in a life size dollhouse; the layout was Mulder's apartment, only missing the small characteristics Mulder had put there over the years, signs of wear and tear that made apartment 42 so much different than apartment 44, yet in every other sense, it was the same.

She had a hard time crossing the threshold of the bedroom because that's where the similarities stopped. She hadn't been in Mulder's bedroom to picture it like she could the rest of the apartment; in that moment it became her sitting on the lonely mattress with a stranger who had just admitted to stalking her.

When the lightbulb had gone out in his room, she'd only turned to look at it for a moment before her attention was drawn to Padgett - how much in the darkness his back and his spiky brown hair resembled her partner. An omnipresent being looking down at them might even see what appeared to be Mulder and Scully, side by side as always. But then he turned and she was reminded he was most distinctly not Mulder.

Then Mulder barged in with such confidence she felt the indignant sting of embarrassment. Did he know she'd be here? Was she that easy to read? What was it about her that keyed Mulder into the insight she'd put herself in this situation? It was obvious it had just been a coincidence, but for a split second, when she first saw him, she felt like yet again Mulder had read her.

The manuscript Mulder had thrust in her hands was heavy - her fingers ached holding the weight of who this man saw her to be. After hearing Padgett had written about having sex with her, she had to know what Mulder had read. It was important she knew for her own sake, so she could know what aspects of herself, fictionalized or not, were now open record in a criminal trial for all of her peers and colleagues to read if they wished. But it was also important that she knew what parts of herself, parts she wasn't ready to give to Mulder, were now written plain as day on a page. Was Padgett accurate in his depictions of her? Would it be worse if it was wrong and Mulder took it as fact?

She almost thought about going home, she wanted to have privacy when she read this, but she didn't want to taint her home by bringing Padgett in, if only through the spirit of him on the page. He didn't deserve that, so instead she ended up using an empty interrogation room. It felt oddly fitting. Mulder and Padgett might as well have been on the opposite side of the one-way glass, examining her while she was none the wiser.

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with a sigh, ready to see if she recognized herself in the words. If she'd open the page to see a portrait of her on an 8.5 by 11 inch canvas. When she opened the manuscript, she stumbled across a passage she'd already read.

Even now, as she pushed an errant strand of titian hair behind her ear she worried her partner would know instinctively what she could only guess. To be thought of as simply a beautiful woman was bridling, unthinkable. But she was beautiful... fatally, stunningly prepossessing. Yet the compensatory respect she commanded only deepened the yearnings of her heart... to let it open, to let someone in.

Within a moment, the side of her face burned where her fingertips had just been to push her hair aside. She felt embarassed at even the smallest acknowledgement of one of her habits, and she couldn't help but think of how Padgett would describe her reactions to his words right now and it made her uncomfortable.

As soon as that thought ran through her mind, lashing her confidence like a whip, another thought acted as a salve: What would Mulder think?

Scully sighed in resignation as she steeled herself to keep reading. She had to know how she was being perceived, what Mulder might have seen.

But if she'd predictably aroused her sly partner's suspicions Special Agent Dana Scully had herself become... simply aroused.

All morning the stranger's unsolicited compliments had played on the dampened strings of her instrument until the middle "C" of consciousness was struck square and resonant. She was flattered. His words had presented her a pretty picture of herself quite unlike the practiced mask of uprightness that mirrored back to her from the medical examiners and the investigators and all the lawmen who dared no such utterances.

She felt an involuntary flush and rebuked herself for the girlish indulgence. But the images came perforce and she let them play - let them flood in like savory - or more a sugary confection - from her adolescence when her senses were new and ungoverned by fear and self-denial. 'Ache,' 'pang,' 'prick,' 'twinge' - how ironic the Victorian vocabulary of behavioral pathology now so perfectly described the palpations of her own desire. The stranger had looked her in the eye and knew her more completely than she knew herself. She felt wild, feral, guilty as a criminal. Had the stranger unleashed in her what was already there or only helped her discover a landscape she, by necessity, blinded herself to? What would her partner think of her?

That was a thought that came into the forefront of her mind as the stranger kissed her plump, swollen lips. Her partner was only the distance of a thin wall away from her. Would he hear her moan? Did she want him to? She was wanton, drunk with lust and desire. With every new mark the stranger's mouth left on her too-long neglected body, she felt the rigid workplace woman melt away, a winter becoming spring as she felt herself bloom open for him.

Her azulean gaze rolled back when the stranger's desire came into contact with hers, her throbbing heat beckoning him with every beat of her heart.

"Please. I need this," she moaned, begging for the stranger to help her become the woman her work so often repressed.

Mulder was able to make it that far before shoving the manuscript away from him in disgust, the sound of the matte paper sliding across the table sounding no different than if Padgett was here laughing at him.

Mulder had spent years cultivating fantasies of Scully that felt right. How many times had he paused, cock in hand and sweat on brow, and sighed while mentally backing up a few steps. Maybe Fantasy-Scully had said something Real-Scully never would have, or maybe she came faster than was realistic, or maybe the look in her eyes wasn't quite right. He never wanted Fantasy-Scully to do anything Real-Scully wouldn't - he wasn't masturbating to some actress in one of his movies, no. His heart was racing and his dick was throbbing because of the woman he was in love with and he wanted to do her justice.

Yet Padgett claimed the stranger "knew her more completely than she knew herself."

Mulder wanted to dismiss it outright. He wanted to read this passage and scoff that an outsider could even think to know the enigmatic woman he worked with. But every time he almost scoffed at the words, he'd have a moment of recognition - a moment where he vividly saw his partner on the pages in a way he thought only he had observed.

But at the same time, it didn't feel like her at all. Or at least, he hoped it didn't. Padgett's Scully read as a woman concerned with how others perceived her, which Mulder agreed with, but as a woman dissatisfied with the constraints her work put on her. Mulder had always feared Scully's work on the X-Files hindered her from living a life she wanted to, but he trusted her when she said she wouldn't be anywhere she didn't want to be. He knew in his soul that was true of his stubborn, strong-willed partner, but for as much confidence he had in her, he lacked confidence in himself.

However, if there was one thing he knew about Scully, it was that she didn't need validation from a man to recognize her strength. Mulder knew, as much as it both pained him and made him want to laugh, Scully was insecure with her looks from time to time. But he knew she was confident in her abilities at work. Scully was the smartest, most capable agent he knew - not this timid girl Padgett made her out to be.

He could handle the writing to a point: it was an invasion for Padgett to use her like this, but it crossed a line. A really big fucking line.

He was using her as a sick proverbial plaything, using the likeness of Scully and splaying her open for anyone to see. While Mulder could question the validity of Padgett's assessments, he couldn't help but think of the other copies of this manuscript that had been distributed to those working the case - would the rookie agents who didn't know shit about Scully read this and think they knew her on the most intimate level imaginable? Mulder was still trying to understand her intricacies and he was her partner of seven years, yet Agent Nobody might look at her tomorrow and have the audacity to think he knew her.

Even worse, they would read this and imagine that this wanton woman, pleading and begging for this man to change her life with his cock, was Scully. Fiction being construed as reality always had harmful consequences. The potential of other people reading Scully's body described so lewdly made him feel physically sick. The thought she was sitting across town, reading about herself being violated in this way, made him want to throw on his coat and race to her house right now and save her the injustice.

But would that be hypocritical of him? That's something that bothered Mulder almost as much as reading this filth, that nagging voice in the back of his head asking if he was any better than Padgett. He couldn't count the hours he'd spent with Fantasy-Scully in the lonely solitude of his apartment. How often he'd turn to her and fantasized about loving her in the way she deserved. How many times she'd been there to comfort him while he dealt with the reality that she may be as close as he ever got to Real-Scully.

Was what he had always considered reverence actually some perverted objectification of the woman he loved so dearly?

What would Scully think if she knew?

His chest tightened uncomfortably at the thought of Scully finding out how many times he'd fantasized about making love to her and the disgust he imagined might follow. The last thing he ever wanted to do was make her feel like he didn't respect her when the truth was he respected her more than anyone he'd ever met.

Which is why his blood was boiling at the idea this man wanted to release a cheap dimestore paperback of Scully's intimacy, watering down all of her complexities for the consumption of people who didn't respect anything about her and just wanted to get off on some cheap erotica.

Mulder collected the manuscript he'd thrown and sat back down with a frustrated sigh. He needed to know just how far this was going to go, despite wanting to vomit at the image of this undeserving man touching her. Padgett's narrator was selfish. Clearly driven by his own pleasure. He may be tapping into the mind of Scully, but in a manner that objectifies rather than cherishes it. The stranger's hands roam her body to know it, as a means of conquering rather than an attempt to elicit pleasure out of her. He writes odes to her pebbled, rosy nipples, but nothing about what it elicits in her other than bland descriptions.

Arousal.

Excitement.

He discusses her while evading her simultaneously. Padgett's woman, physically, sounds like a woman drawn from a Harlequin romance novel that merely had similarities to Scully. There were long paragraphs describing her titan hair and creamy, pale skin - but when the stranger kisses her neck, he doesn't take note of the little pink scar that resides there. The smooth expanse of her stomach is talked about without any regard to the bullet wound that was still healing, puckered pink skin that always seemed to cause an irrational flicker of insecurity to appear in Scully's eyes when it was brought up.

This was a romanticization of a version of Scully.

This was not his partner.

Padgett's narrator - for he refuses to acknowledge it as a self-insert of Padgett - doesn't even taste her. He states simply that, yet again, she's eager, before he thrusts into her all the way with little regard for readiness- marking her reactions as pleasure in response to him rather than reactions of her own pleasure. Aside from the notion her clit is enlarged, there is no move to touch it, to stimulate her like she deserves. This Fake-Scully doesn't touch herself either because she is plainly acting as a conduit for the narrator's own pleasure.

Despite his greatest intentions not to, he found himself drifting back to his own fantasies of Scully, mentally comparing and contrasting the intentions of the mind at work in both instances. In all his fantasies, he imagined Scully was the one to really act on her sexual impulses. It's what he would need: full obvious desire that this, he, was what she wanted. Depending from scenario to scenario, maybe he instigated it, maybe she did, but in all cases, Scully most certainly didn't demurely lay there "trembling with uncertainty" as Mulder did whatever he wanted to her and read every reaction as a success. Padgett's narrator might as well be fucking a sex doll he'd imbued with a personality for the amount of regard he actually gave Scully's autonomy.

In his mind, she'd be just as bossy in the bedroom as she was in the office. Mulder couldn't help but wonder what her voice would sound like. High and breathy or low and guttural? He wondered if the Scully he knew would arch her back in a silent plea for more, encouraging touches she liked while dismissing ones she didn't.

She gently stroked the stranger's arms in soft encouragement as their mutual pleasure started to crest. Her gaze fell into the direction of her partner's apartment, undoubtedly thinking of him for a moment as a blush spread across her chest. She'd spent so long on the pedestal of purity he had put her on that the prospect of falling off meant falling into an abyss she was afraid to drown in. Could he look at her the same way when he realized she'd found what it was like to live? Her azulean gaze returned to the stranger's as a small smile graced her renaissance features.

She'd been lonely for so long that the prospect of becoming whole, joining with the stranger, felt as empowering.

With a final snap of his hips against her spread legs, they came together, and she cried for, she finally-

Mulder stopped when he realized his white knuckled grip was threatening to tear the pages, despite that being exactly what he wanted to do to this filth.

He didn't put her on a pedestal of purity, most certainly not in his own fantasies, but did she think he did? Is that how the outside world saw their relationship? A eunuch and a nun side by side? They'd been through so much, she… she had to know he cared about her more than he should. They'd had tense moments before, moments that lived inside his mind, ready to be called upon when his heart was racing and his hand was unbuckling his jeans, but surely his mind was the only thing keeping those moments alive, surely Scully never thought twice.

And he was damn sure there was no way Scully would actually think of what he thought of her while she was having sex with some stranger, could she? He mentally reprimanded himself for taking this lunatic's words as any form of truth about Scully. But the thought still lingered...

Jerse.

He'd read over that case file nearly twenty times, certain words leaving a little knick on his heart every time his eyes scanned them. Prior relations. Appeared Agent Scully spent the night. Wearing his shirt. Various little breadcrumbs that lead him to the conclusion she'd had sex with the man.

He'd spent so long trying to rationalize his feelings towards the idea of her being touched by and touching another man, spent so long dancing around the obvious conclusion, that he hadn't thought about her motivations other than wondering if this was her way of spiting him. He couldn't help but consider if it was her acknowledging his feelings for her and throwing them back in his face. He'd never considered the possibility she thought of him during.

Then, with the curse of an eidetic memory, he remembered being on the phone with her and scoffing at the idea she'd had a date. It was more in response to her blowing off the case, but had she taken it as him implying she was undesirable? She'd been so direct about having a life outside of the X-Files, had his comment been the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back and led her straight into the arms of a madman - not to spite him, but to assure herself that she was a desirable woman who was admired?

And then she was almost incinerated, and he continued to burn her with his childish insults.

Mulder leaned his face into his hands and pressed his palms into his eyes. She deserved so much more than she'd been given. He released his hands and blinked away the stars left in his vision, his eyes focusing on a single word on the page.

Lonely.

Over the years they'd become two sides of the same coin, initially considered opposites, but in all actuality, two complimentary entities completely and utterly connected. Did that mean she felt the same overwhelming loneliness he did? Loneliness he only felt reprieved of Monday through Friday from nine to five?

Was she Margaret Mary in the story of the sacred heart? Would her loneliness be absolved once she gave it to Mulder, who'd let her heart lay alongside his, absorbing all he had to give her as his touch healed her?

Mulder had spent seven years with her, desperately trying to understand the enigma that was Dana Katherine Scully, and he still didn't have the gall to consider himself an expert.

Padgett spent all of three pages and thought himself a god.

"Agent Scully is already in love."

Padgett had been so wrong about so many things about her, yet Scully couldn't help but feel her face flush at just how right he had been at that moment. She couldn't even bear to look at Mulder after he said it. She'd tried for a fleeting moment, but as soon as she saw the hint of a question in his gaze, she turned away.

Avoidance seemed to be one of their favorite methods of communicating where personal issues were concerned.

However, she knew that they wouldn't be able to avoid talking about Padgett for too long. He'd died a few floors beneath where they currently sat, and even though she'd clung to Mulder and sobbed for longer than she was proud to admit just yesterday, they still hadn't had an open conversation about it. While usually that wasn't abnormal for them, dancing around uncomfortable topics, Mulder was like a dog with a bone when he was worried about her. If the way he was currently fidgeting on the couch next to her, glancing at her every time he thought she wouldn't notice, was any indication, he wanted to talk about it - if only to make sure she was alright.

"I'm sorry I read it," Mulder says out of the blue as a TV news report dimly came through the speakers about shots fired at a local apartment complex where a federal agent was attacked. It looked like depictions of her were just everywhere nowadays.

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning head slightly to face him.

"He violated you by writing what he did, and my reading it probably wasn't any better," he replied, contrition heavy in his tone.

This wasn't what she'd anticipated he was concerned about and it took her a moment to catch up with him. "I-Mulder, you had to. It was evidence," she stammered lamely.

"And I'm sorry about that, Scully. That other people might've read it," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh, I sealed the file."

"What?" she replied, uncertain of his meaning.

"The case was an X-File, so I took the authority to seal the file so all copies of the manuscript have been collected, all disposed of except for one, and no one can access it without permission," he replied, picking at a loose thread of his jeans.

She stared at him for a moment, processing her relief that no one had the potential of stumbling across it if they searched her name. Mulder shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and let the thread drop as he clasped his hands together. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you, um, I should have-"

"No," she interrupted, not wanting him to chastise himself for something that meant so much to her. "I'm just really relieved. Thank you, Mulder."

He nodded softly before turning to look at her. "It wasn't right, what he wrote."

Scully found herself hung up on Mulder's word choice. Right. Did he mean it wasn't acceptable Padgett wrote it in the first place? Or did he mean it factually wasn't correct? Was it both?

Scully was frustrated because as much as she wished it wasn't the case, it was important to her that Mulder knew what parts were wrong. The thought he was apologizing for reading it because he considered it true, akin to reading straight out of her diary, made her uncomfortable. Yet at the same time, she'd spent years trying to hide just how deep her feelings for him went - she wasn't ready to give herself fully to him and reveal the most intimate side of herself to him, but because of Padgett she felt like she had to in the most clinical way possible.

All because it mattered so much to her how Mulder thought of her.

"He-," she started, her voice faltering slightly. "I think he got some parts right. I guess I was curious about him."

"Why?" Mulder prompted, shifting slightly on the couch so he didn't have to crane his neck to look at her.

Now it was her turn to fidget. Scully drew her hands into her lap and started idly playing with the nail of her middle finger. "I spend so much time trying to prevent myself from being underestimated. I don't want people at work thinking I'm too sensitive or too this or that. I try to dress professionally so I'm taken seriously. I guess I just wanted to see if someone was still able to break down the walls I've built and see me."

"Did you want him to see you?" Mulder asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"No, but I wanted to know if you do," she thought to herself.

"I don't think so," she sighed.

"But you still were curious?" he asked, appearing to get lost in her cryptic answers.

She took a deep breath, trying to navigate this awkward terrain of how much she wanted to reveal about herself. Mulder must've taken that the wrong way because he quickly added, "I'm sorry. I don't want to make you talk about anything you aren't comfortable with."

She let out a little exhalation of laughter at Mulder's seemingly endless chivalry. Yesterday, on the very floor a few feet away from them, he'd opened her shirt and checked her for wounds while she was trying to remember how to breathe properly. He'd rocked her and kissed her temple while she cried, shedding a few tears of his own. He'd seen her at her worst, yet he still never wanted to take more than she was comfortable giving.

"You're not making me uncomfortable," she assured. "I guess I'm just not used to having to reflect inward like this."

"Do you think he was right and it's bothering you?" Mulder prompted, trying to help her gain footing in her thought process with a prompt.

"Do you think he was right?" she replied, throwing his question back at him instead of answering.

Scully noticed his gaze wander to the six bullet holes still marring his wall. She'd been adamant that they spend time at his apartment rather than go to hers. She refused to allow Padgett the ability to turn the sanctuary of Mulder's apartment, a space she'd always felt safe, into a museum of her pain. But she hadn't considered that maybe Mulder needed the reprieve more than her. He looked like he'd barely slept and, being the floor next to them was shining clean, she'd be willing to assume it was from spending the night on his hands and knees getting her blood out of the woodwork.

"He depicted a woman who didn't want to be objectified by those around her. A woman flattered when she receives a well-deserved compliment, who feels insecure at times and curious about the motivations of those around her," he mused. "I think while much of that can apply to you, it can apply to any number of women who work in such testosterone-heavy fields like you do. I think that Padgett is an example of someone who took an introductory course in psychology and thinks himself a profiler."

"Like you?" she replied boldly.

Mulder looked hurt and she realized her phrasing wasn't the best, so she lamely added, "A profiler."

"Have I ever made you feel like he did?" Mulder asked, his eyes boring into hers to try and read an answer he wasn't sure she'd verbally give.

"No," she shook her head. "There's a difference, Mulder."

"What's that?" he asked softly. She looked at him, trying to see if he was mentally trying to guess, only to see genuine wonder. Maybe that was the biggest difference of all: Padgett claimed to know her while Mulder didn't presume he did.

"I trust you," she admitted, a sentiment she'd shared with him a thousand times over, but now felt exponentially more vulnerable taking into consideration just how intimately Padgett had thought about her. Was admitting she was okay with him reading this inadvertently admitting she was okay with him knowing that side of her?

"And you don't trust him," he added, as if he wasn't following or didn't want to say the wrong thing in case it wasn't what she meant. But it was.

"I felt objectified by Padgett," she replied, watching as he nodded in agreement. "I can only guess, but I presume that when you read, um, all of what he wrote, you tried to subjectify the woman on the page. I presume you thought of how those depictions made me, the real flesh and blood Scully, feel."

He looked pensive and she added, "You were right. Everything he wrote was a priori. Him making analytical judgements based on observation independent of experience. He's never had sex with me, but it's more than that. It's a priori of him knowing me," she murmured. Then, turning to him, she said, "If you ever were to profile me, or try to get into my mind, it's a posteriori - knowledge gained through experience."

His eyes widened slightly at the accidental implication that they'd had sex and she felt a blush threaten to creep on her cheeks. "I mean, you know me. Anything you think of me has a kernel of truth because you're my best friend, you know everything about me, even parts I'd rather hide."

"I don't know everything, Scully," he denied with a shake of his head. Then, adding with a whisper, "There's so much I don't know."

"Sometimes I feel like you know me better than my own mother," she chuckled, only to see he was still pensive.

"Why did you go into his apartment?" he asked. "Why did you put yourself in potential danger like that?"

"I knew he wouldn't hurt me. He just wanted to know me," she said with disdain. "And I wanted to try and find out why."

"But he did end up hurting you," he clarified. His voice was angrier than she presumed he intended it to be, but she knew it was at Padgett and not her.

"He only hurt me when he deemed me unattainable. He lashed out because his perception of me had proven wrong…" she replied, trailing off as the unsaid words hung in the air.

"...because I'm already in love."

Mulder heard the unsaid words regardless, but she didn't have to be a profiler or a Padgett to know he wasn't going to push her. Neither of them were ready for that. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with hers and brought the back of her hand up to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss.

Scully smiled in response as her heart beat erratically in her chest, reminding her of the very thing Padgett tried to steal that had belonged to Mulder this whole time.

#x files #milagro #x files fanfic #msr #mulder #scully #padgett

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masterthespianduchovny · 4 years

Text

Part of the reason I’m so passionate about Mulder being understood as a character is because his existence literally influenced future fictional male characters.

I won’t call Mulder a flat out anomaly, but back then, he was a stark contrast to how men were usually portrayed: hyper masculine, rational (science), and logic based.

Mulder was masculine, but he also had what was seen as feminine attributes: compassion, sensitivity, his supernatural beliefs (yes, this too), etc. also, he wasn’t aggressive or posturing.

Because of this, directly and indirectly, Mulder influenced how male characters were written in many series.

And what makes this super important was that Mulder wasn’t seen as less than a man because of this. It was just accepted.

Now, as some of you have read previous post about how Mulder isn’t an anti masker, this is a continuation of that post. No, I’m not hung up on the assertion, but I do believe that topic opens up the discussion about the brilliance of Mulder’s character and why I believe some do not understand his character.

The series does several subtle things to ground itself and Mulder when it premiered.

1. Scully as the scientist and skeptic. Although she is there for Mulder in the universe, in real life, she’s there to serve as a mouthpiece for the viewer’s skepticism. Her existence is an important key to buying into the premise of the show.

2. Mulder’s credentials. Before we meet Mulder, we know he’s Oxford educated, graduated top of his class, majored in psychology, and was a brilliant profiler. He was so great as a profiler, people even talk about him at the academy. And then we find out he’s called “spooky.”

This establishes that Mulder isn’t out of his mind. He was/is a respected agent who is clearly intelligent and good at his job. When we meet Mulder this is further cemented when it’s revealed that he read Scully’s college thesis and could counter her arguments. Even the fact that he knows Scully was sent down there to spy on him underscores Mulder’s intelligence. The first scene literally is about this, so he wasn’t paranoid.

3. Mulder grounds himself. Often, Mulder says variations of “I know this sounds crazy.” It shows that Mulder isn’t off of the deep end and knows how his views are not only received, but how to level with people. If Mulder was just some guy who believe in wild shit and expected others to believe in it, the show wouldn’t have worked. It works because a. He knows how others see him and is willing to explain his beliefs b. he can prove how and why a conspiracy is going on.

Also, in addition to him not assuming people should just believe him, when he does expect people to be on his side (really in Scully), he points to their mutual experiences. Mulder constantly justifies his beliefs to Scully when she has no reference point to a phenomenon, but when she does, he references the shit ton of other cases they’ve worked.

Mulder is self aware and because of this, we are comfortable investing in Mulder’s crazy beliefs and theories. Mulder can be pulled back and rationed with.

4. He isn’t only intelligent, he’s well read. Mulder isn’t just book smart, he’s culturally knowledgeable. Mulder literally reads up on everything and has a reference for almost anything. Inadvertently, he validates other cultures and their beliefs. But, the fact that most of his knowledge can be traced back to a culture or cultures IS important. Mulder will explain the history of a thing and the various occurrences of it. You don’t find this in official, well respected books. He reads books, diaries, newspapers, etc. Mulder even listens to folklore.

He’s not pulling this shit out of his ass.

5. At the same time, Mulder can also be a skeptic. It’s not as pronounced as Scully or even just religion based. In “Clyde bruckman’s final response”, Mulder is skeptical of the psychic called to the scene and, as a result, kicked out of the room. This plays into the long running theme of Mulder’s instincts being right. Also, it’s a callback to “beyond the sea.” Mulder believes in psychics, but he is skeptical of them at times, such as murders or well known psychics.

He places truth and finding justice over indulging his beliefs and blind belief. Mulder even explains why he doesn’t believe certain psychics, which is another way the show grounds him. He explained it in a perfectly logical way.

There are other instances of Mulder being skeptical with information he’s given regardless of believing a case to be supernatural.

6. This is why the anti mask argument frustrates me: Mulder not only believes in science, he uses it to legitimize his work. Most of his cases are solved with science. He constantly points out how Scully’s science saved him and the x files. And the sign Idance of this point when it comes to anti maskers is that most of the people who are anti mask are also anti vaxxers and anti science.

For Mulder, if Scully’s science proves him wrong a. Either he reformulates his theory b. Realizes something is missing c. Goes back to square one (looked for bigger picture). Mulder almost never discards science, he just doesn’t want science to limit, but rather, expand understanding. Their cases are just things that science hasn’t come across.

I must explicitly state this: Mulder’s cases are solved with science.

Mulder regularly reads up on science shit, which is how he’s able to follow most of Scully’s rebuttals and even provide his own counterpoints.

He sees science as a tool that can be fine tuned.

And circling back to how anti mask is usually anti vax and anti science, these people usually believe the most bat shit things, which some of the time includes anti Semitism. Think of the most popular bat shit insane conspiracy theories and genuinely ask yourself if you think Mulder would believe them. He would think those people are kooks.

7. He wants to believe. Although Mulder 100% believes in aliens, he knows he needs proof. Mulder sees all of this wild shit and knows it isn’t enough to say he’s seen it. He almost never takes anything as a given and understands that he needs to bring something to the table if he wants to be believed.

8. His talent as an agent was still respected. Something I love about the series, it’s a low key great way to develop the character. Skinner comments on Mulder’s talent as an agent, kersh labels him a lost cause implying that he was great at one point, Mulder’s former partner used his profile for cool points, Tom Colton uses Scully to get Mulder on his case, bill Patterson finds an indirect way to get Mulder on his case and used to drunkly praise him.

9. His sense of justice and compassion for victims overrides his beliefs. At the end of the day, Mulder wants victims to be heard and helped. Whether or not his beliefs have anything to do with the case in the end, he cares more about giving the victims answers. Maybe this is the thing that grounds him the most, or humanizes him and shows that Mulder is more than his zany beliefs.

This is why more Mulder meta is needed. There are so many topics prime for discussion and yet some overlook that for a quick joke. Like, dig into this man, people. There are so many gems and fascinating topics. 😩

#the x-files #mulder #x-files #fox mulder

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 4 years

Text

Normal Love and Superheroes: One - the orange streak of lightning

Summary: Leena Duckett gets her bike stolen and meets friendly officer John Blake.

Pairing: John Blake x OFC (Leena Duckett)

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: theft, general spookiness there for a second, i don’t know this is pretty pure

“Goodnight, Mr. Nooley.” Leena waved to the Gotham Community Center director as she stood in the threshold of the exit.

“Goodnight, Leena, and be safe on your way home.”

She smiled at the middle-aged, balding man one last time before finally exiting the building. It was late, as per usual when she left the community center after her days of volunteering. But Leena always thought that Gotham was far more beautiful at night. The skyscrapers towering miles above her, all of them aglow with the evidence of late-night workers or families safe inside their apartments. She tugged her baggy sweater tighter around her to ward off the chill that had taken over the air after the sun went down. Fall was nearly in full effect for Gotham. A time of year that Leena loved.

With pinked cheeks and nose from the sudden cold, Leena headed west. A block away from the community center to where her bike was safely locked to the nearest available bike rack when she arrived that afternoon. Her stomach grumbled. She could already picture herself in the tiny kitchen of her shared studio apartment. A pasta dish was due on a night like this. Something that paired nice with white wine. Leena was already licking her lips in anticipation of it.

When she got closer to the bike rack, however, she noticed a man standing in the lamplight. There were a few other bikes locked to the rack, so she moved to the curb a few feet away from the man and waited for him to be done with his own bike.

The man, dressed in a coat maybe a farmer would wear and jeans, was taking a long time to lock up his bike. And, wanting to be nice —

“Do you need some help?” she asked, taking a tentative step forward.

He turned. And it wasn’t until then that she noticed it. His grubby, stubbled face. His severe frown. The bolt cutters in his hand, with the jaws around the lock attached to her bike.

Leena’s eyebrows furrowed, the grip she had on her bag tightened. “Hey, wait a minute — “

But it was too late. There was a distinct, metallic snap as the bolt cutters went through her lock. She moved forward to stop him, knowing in the back of her mind that she would never be able to take on a man that size. He quickly ripped the lock from the bike and hopped onto the seat.

“Stop! Stop!” she shouted.

But he didn’t stop. He took off down the sidewalk at breakneck speed. She didn’t even bother to run after him. There was no way she would catch him.

“Did that really just happen?” she asked the empty street as she watched the thief and her bike disappear into the darkness.

In shock, Leena sat down on the curb. What was she supposed to do now? That stupid bike was her only mode of transportation around the city. And her apartment was too far away to walk, she’d either freeze or get robbed, again. Especially in this city. She checked her wallet for money for the bus or the train. That was a no-go. Not even a sorry penny to her name at the moment. She refused to call her mom who lived outside the city proper. She’d never let her hear the end of it and force her by guilt alone to move back out there with her. So, instead, she pulled out her RAZR and called her roommate Jamie. It was only six o’clock, she was bound to be awake for a few more hours.

It went straight to voicemail.

She tried again.

Voicemail.

One last time for good luck.

Voicemail.

Leena groaned, head tilted towards the black night sky. What the heck was she supposed to do now? Even still, she wasn’t going to call her mom. It would be embarrassing and it would take her nearly an hour to get into the city. So, with one last grimace to the universe, Leena dialed 911.

Her insides felt like they were being pulled down by an invisible string. What was that? Embarrassment? Shame? Anxiety? Maybe a bit of all three? Either way, she hated this. Her bike was gone. She was cold. And now she was calling 911 for the first time in her twenty years of life.

The other line had barely even started ringing before a stern, feminine voice answered, “911, what is your emergency?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d like to report a robbery — or — er — a theft? I guess?”

“Ma’am are you in any immediate danger? Is the thief still present?”

“No, no, I’m fine. He’s gone. He stole my bike.”

“So this is not an active emergency.”

“Correct.” Leena fiddled with the strap of her bag sitting in her lap. Her bottom was starting to get cold from the concrete.

“Alright, ma’am, did you get a good look at the suspect?” Though it was slight, Leena could tell that the dispatcher was annoyed that this wasn’t an emergency that needed GCPD’s immediate attention.

“Yes, I did. He was on 14th street headed west — on — on a bright orange bike.” She could feel her embarrassment, like a bubble, welling up inside her. Forcing unwanted tears to prick the backs of her eyes. She felt so stupid right now.

“And are you alone?”

Leena hated the tears that slipped from her eyes as she whispered, “Yes.”

“Okay. We’ll send an officer to get your statement in the morning. What is your home address?” The dispatcher hadn’t seemed to notice Leena’s building up of emotion.

“But — But…I have no way home.” The pathetic, childish words couldn’t be stopped before they escaped past her lips. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean — “

The dispatcher’s voice took on a warm tone. As if she finally understood. “It’s alright, hon.” For some reason, the term of endearment made Leena cry more. “Just sit tight. An officer is on their way now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

Leena wiped furiously at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “No. No. That’s okay. You probably have more important things to do.”

“Alright, ma’am. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The line went dead and Leena stowed her phone away in her overstuffed bag. She then hugged her knees to her chest, put her head down, and waited. A few cars went by, but nobody was walking the streets. Especially not at night. Especially not after all that clown stuff with the mob went down a few months ago. She had heard from her roommate Jamie that some local ordinance was going through city council to get the rest of the criminals off the streets. But for now, most of them still ran free. Poisoning the streets of Gotham with murder, mob activity, and even petty bike theft. A shiver, like a finger of ice, ran down her spine, causing her to curl up into an even tighter ball. Maybe if she made herself as small as possible, no one would notice her sitting on the curb.

A warm hand landed gently on her shoulder. She jumped. Her head snapped up, her body instantly moving away from the hand and whoever was attached to it. Just in case they were dangerous or, and she only thought this for a split second, the bike thief coming back to get rid of his only witness.

But the hand was attached to neither of those things. In fact, the hand belonged to a police officer. Crouching beside her on the curb. His police cruiser parallel parked to their left.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said, his voice deep, intimidating, but not lacking in caring or softness, “I’m with GCPD, I’m here to help. Are you the one who called in about the stolen bike?”

“Yeah — Yes. I am.”

He was young. Maybe a few years older than her if she had to guess. He was probably a rookie cop they sent out on stupid cases like this. She could see from his name badge that his last name was Blake. Slightly tan skin, fit and lean, closely cropped dark hair. His ears kinda stuck out on either side of his head, but it only added to his boyish good looks that made Leena’s throat close up for a second.

“Let’s take your statement in the cruiser, yeah? You must be freezing.” He cocked his head towards the parked police car, still running, beside them with a slight smile.

His brown, deep-set eyes nearly disappeared when he did that.

“Um — yeah. Yeah. That sounds good,” she said, nerves still dialed to 1,000 and hoping that once she was inside the police cruiser and relatively safe she would calm down.

Officer Blake stood first and then offered her his hand. She picked up her bag and accepted it gladly. Her legs had nearly fallen asleep from sitting on the concrete for so long, and she couldn’t feel her bottom at all it was so cold. And once she was standing, she couldn’t help but take note of the fact that he was taller than her. But he wasn’t a giant — average height. Leena shook her head as she went around to the passenger side of the car. When did she ever take note of someone’s height? Of the way their eyes disappeared when they smiled? Of their boyish good looks? He was just the police officer who was going to take a statement about the theft of her bike and hopefully take her home. That was it.

Leena, she told herself as she slid into the passenger seat, get a hold of yourself.

Once Officer Blake was in the driver’s seat, he pulled a pad of paper and a pen from his belt. “So, can you tell me exactly what happened tonight? Start from the beginning.”

“Well, I finished up over at the community center — “

“What do you do at the community center?”

“Uh — I’m a volunteer. I teach art lessons to kids on Wednesdays and Fridays,” Leena answered as she stared into her lap.

Officer Blake nodded. “So you finished up at the community center….”

“Right. I left the building and walked the block west to that bike rack.” She pointed to the rack in question.

“Why didn’t you use the bike rack in front of the community center?” he asked.

“I like to leave room for more kids if they show up — plus it was full by the time I got there this afternoon, so.” She shrugged, wondering if he was just being thorough with his questioning or he was mocking her in some way. “But when I got to the bike rack there was already a guy standing there. He was wearing jeans, worker’s boots, and like a Carhartt-type jacket. I didn’t wanna be rude. I thought he was messing with his own bike — so I stayed back to give him some space. It looked like he was struggling or something so I asked if he needed help. He — uh — didn’t. Cause then he took off with my bike.”

Officer Blake suppressed a laugh.

“That’s not funny!” Leena was struggling to keep in her own laughter now. Now that she was telling the story, there was a bit more humor there than she thought. “Okay…Maybe it’s a little funny.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He coughed to cover up the remainder of his badly disguised chuckles. “Did you get a good look at the guy?”

“I did.”

She could see him perfectly in her head. Square face, stubbled jaw, heavy brow. But she didn’t know what to say to give him a proper description.

“Can I get a description? Just as many details — “

“Uh — can I see your notepad?” Leena asked as she pulled one of the many pens from her bag.

“Um, sure.” He handed it over with a look of apprehension.

For a moment, she looked at the things he had written down. His handwriting was terrible, small chicken scratch letters that looked closer to Chinese calligraphy than English handwriting, but she could make out some things. He had written down her own description. Brown hair, blue eyes, around 5’5”, rosy cheeks, pretty. She quickly flipped to a new page and began to sketch out the man she saw. Fighting down the sudden heat that was creeping up her neck.

He thought she was pretty?

“This is easier than me trying to tell you,” she explained.

“Right. Certainly saves the sketch artists some time,” he said. As her pen moved rapidly over the paper, she felt the car shift into gear. “Where do you live?”

“Fashion District — Bayside Apartments.”

“Nice area,” he commented as he pulled away from the curb.

“It’s only nice for people you can afford to live at the Yards or the Ritz.” Leena scoffed. “Only live there cause my roommate’s a fashion designer — she's an assistant with one of those big-name brands that I can’t pronounce the name of. Bayside is an abandoned warehouse vaguely disguised as an apartment building.”

She looked up from her sketch to see him smirking as he drove. She felt heat flooding her cheeks and neck, probably turning them a blotchy shade of red. “Sorry. You didn’t need to know that.”

“It’s alright,” he answered, making her feel only slightly better.

She finished up with the sketch and nodded in satisfaction. She reckoned that it looked enough like him for the police to use it. “There. Done.”

He looked over at her finished product with raised brows. Then he smiled, his eyes disappearing for an instant. “Wow. Looks better than half the stuff our sketch artists come up with. Actually looks like a person.”

“Thanks,” Leena chuckled.

Her bag began to vibrate. It took her a moment to find her phone in the mess of sketch pads, paint supplies, and multicolored pens. But once she did, she saw that it was Jamie finally calling her back. Leena flipped open the phone in an angry huff.

“I called you three times!” Leena hissed into the phone.

“I know! Which is why I’m calling you back!” Jamie answered, not sounding bothered in the slightest.

“Well, thanks to your inability to answer your damn phone — I’m now riding in a cop car!” She turned to Officer Blake and mouthed a sorry, but he brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

“Wait — a cop car? Did you get arrested?”

“No, I didn’t get arrested!”

“Sounds like you to get arrested.”

Leena looked over at Officer Blake to see if he heard that. If he had, he wasn’t giving it away. “No, it doesn’t. Look, he’s taking me home. I’ll be there in like…Two minutes. I’ll explain everything then.”

“He? Is he cute? Did you check for a wedding ring?”

“Goodbye, Jamie.”

Leena hung up before her roommate could say anything else embarrassing.

“Your friend seems, uh — Interesting,” Officer Blake commented.

“Yeah, she’s great. She’s great.”

As secretly as she could though, she glanced over to see if she could catch a glimpse of his left hand. His arm was perched on the sill of the window while he drove with his right hand. No wedding ring. She quickly looked back to the front of the vehicle and took a deep breath. That didn’t mean he was single. No wedding ring meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just like that weird fluttering feeling she was getting in her stomach meant nothing. Just like the sly little grin she saw out of the corner of her eye meant nothing.

Nope. Not a thing.

The car pulled up to Bayside’s main entrance and Leena sighed. Even though the place was terrible, it was still home. Drafty walls, leaky sinks, fluctuating heat functionality and all. It was cheap, close to Jamie’s job, and not too far from the various places Leena went to keep herself busy.

“Can I have my notepad back please?” Leena handed it back with an embarrassed little smile. “Thanks. Now, I do have a few more questions for you, if that’s okay?”

“Oh — yeah. That’s fine.”

“Can I get a description of the bike that was stolen?”

“It’s uh — bicycle. Sorry I don’t know models or anything. It’s bright orange with a white basket and…um — and it has white tassels on the handle bars.”

Leena had always debated about whether or not she should remove the childish tassels that came on the bike that she got for ten dollars at a garage sale. But she could never truly convince herself to part with them. She liked the way they blew in the strong breezes her riding made. They reminded her of simpler times, when she had less cares and she genuinely believed she could do anything.

She caught the small smile he flashed when she mentioned the tassels though and it made her heart soar.

“Okay.” He nodded his head then added quickly, “And — uh — would you wanna go out on a date with me sometime?”

A laugh burst from Leena’s chest before she could stop it. He looked nervous. Twiddling his pen between his fingers and biting down on his bottom lip. He was trying to control his expression, but his eyes held a kind of earnest hope that made her heart squeeze in her chest.

“Sorry. Sorry. Are you even allowed to do that?” she asked. “Ya know - on the clock?”

“Probably not.” He chuckled nervously. “But I think you’re really cute and ya know — I thought that, maybe — You thought — And that there was something — “

“I’ve got one condition,” she said, feeling a thrill in her chest.

What the hell was she doing?

He looked hopeful, excited even. “What’s that?”

“You either have my bike when you come on this date,” she said, confused and excited by the words coming out of her own mouth, “Or you don’t show up at all.”

For a moment, Leena was ecstatic. She had never done anything like this in her life. Challenge someone to something like this. Be so cheeky. But when she saw the exasperated look on his face, she wilted like a houseplant someone forgot to water. Oh no. Had she ruined everything before it even began? Just because she thought it would be fun to be mischievous for once?

“I’m just — “ she started to say, but he cut her off.

“You have yourself a deal.”

Leena sprang back to life again. A wide smile enveloping her features. It nearly hurt her cheeks, she was smiling so hard. “My name’s Leena — by the way.”

“John,” he replied with a soft smile, “I’m also gonna need your last name, phone number, date of birth, and address for the statement.”

“That’s an odd way of asking for my — “

“Oh, no. I really need the information for the statement,” he said, tapping his pen on the notepad.

Leena gave the rest of her information to Officer John Blake and then exited his vehicle with a sense of professionalism that barely disguised her excitement. Once she was inside the lobby she bolted to the industrial elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she could hardly contain herself. In fact, she had such a loose cap on her excitement that after a few moments of being alone in the elevator she squealed in delight.

She had a date! Well…The potential for a date!

As soon as she opened the door to the apartment, Jamie bounced up from the couch to greet her. Jamie could have been a model if she wanted. But she would much rather design the clothes than wear them on the runway. She was tall and well toned from her years of college basketball with Gotham University. She had short, dark hair and a regal, hawk-like nose.

“Oh my, God! Lee, what the hell happened?” she asked.

Leena hung her bag on the coat rack with a smile. Then, turning to the small kitchen, she noticed the box of pizza sitting on the counter.

“Did you order pizza?”

“Yeah — to make up for the fact that I’m a terrible friend.” Jamie went over the box and flipped open the lid.

It was Leena’s favorite. Banana peppers, black olives, and italian sausage. There were only a few pieces missing. Leena gratefully went over to the counter and pulled a slice from the box. She was starving — it was nearly seven-thirty. She hummed happily as she ate, sitting down on a bar stool.

“Okay, you can be in my good graces again,” Leena said, half of her pizza slice already gone by the time she spoke.

“So, come on.” Jamie sat down on the stool beside her. “Tell me what happened!”

Leena took another bite. “I got a date!”

“You got a date? With the cop?” Jamie asked, laughter curling around every word she spoke, “You didn’t save him for me?”

“Hell no!” Leena grabbed another slice. “I haven’t been on a date in a year — plus you’re seeing that guy…Aaron?”

“Oh that was a one time thing.” Jamie rolled her eyes. “Never date a model. Trust me. But — okay, so like, how did you end up with the cop in the first place?”

“Right! Well, first my bike got stolen.”

“The Orange Streak of Lightning?”

“Yes. The Orange Streak. Anyway, it got stolen. I had no money for the bus or the train. I called you to see if you’d come pick me up.” Leena pointed an accusing finger at her roommate who only gave her a sorry smile in reply. “So I was forced to call the police and get a ride from them.”

“Hey, if I’d answered my phone you wouldn’t have a date with a cute cop right now,” Jamie pointed out as she grabbed her own slice of pizza.

Leena winced. “Well, here’s the thing…”

“Oh, no.”

“There’s no specific day yet. Cause uh — I maybe told him that he either showed up with my bike or there wasn’t a date at all.” Leena cringed at her own words.

Jamie stared at her a moment. “Why the hell would you say that?”

“I don’t know!” Leena anxiously stood up from her stool and began to pace nearly the entire length of their studio apartment. “It just came out of me! It was like I was a different person! I never say things like that! Why did I say that? I’m such an — “

“Did he agree to do it?” Jamie asked as her green eyes followed Leena’s pacing.

Leena brought her fingernails to her mouth and bit down hard. “Yeah.”

“Holy shit. He must think you’re pretty damn hot,” Jamie laughed. “What’d you do that left such an impression?”

“Nothing!” Leena quickly jumped to her own defense. Even though there really was nothing to defend. “I — I gave him my statement. I sketched out the guy who stole my bike in his notepad. That’s it!”

“Lee.” Jamie’s eyes turned soft. “When are you gonna realize that you actually are pretty damn hot?”

Lenna pulled a face and squatted down on the floor. Then finally sprawled out spread eagle on the wood flooring with the knit hat that had previously been on her head covering her face. Her insides felt like they were being pulled in every which direction. Up into her throat with excitement. Down to her feet with fear and embarrassment. Right after it had happened, it was all that she could think about. He was all that she could think about. Officer John Blake. With his boyish grin and hard brown eyes. But now she was back to reality. Back to her dingy apartment where her only personal space was her bed surrounded by curtains. Back to herself, someone who wasn’t adventurous, flirtatious, or cheeky. Back to someone who regretted giving him that stupid challenge of finding her bike because what if this was her only chance of finding someone? Of finding someone after….

“I was so excited before,” Leena groaned, her face pulled down in a perpetual frown beneath her hat.

“Why aren’t you excited now?” Jamie asked.

Leena could feel Jamie lay down on the floor beside her and take her hand.

“Cause all I can think about is — “ She turned her voice down to a whisper, afraid of saying it too loudly in fear that it may manifest some darkness. “Jacob.”

Though Leena had her eyes covered, the light coming through the red knit of her hat, she could simply feel the harsh, ice cold scowl that had taken over Jamie’s face. If looks could kill, that one would surely make anyone drop dead. And a part of Leena that she had locked away for a very long time was crushing her on the inside once more.

Jacob Grayson. She remembered when they first met. Freshmen in high school, sitting next to each other at lunch because they didn’t know where else to go. He was perfect. He wore his blonde hair spiked up and had a shell necklace from his trip to the Bahamas that summer. They instantly clicked. And pretty soon, they were dating. Leena didn’t think they would ever stop dating. She pictured her entire life with Jacob. Graduating together. Going to college together at Gotham University. He would get a business degree while she pursued a degree in art. They would find good jobs in the city, get married, have kids. All of it. He was simply perfect. Funny, smart, handsome, the first person she ever kissed or loved. All of her formative years, she was with him. Molding her life around him and a fictional life she may have with him. They did graduate together. She did end up attending Gotham University for a few years but never graduated. Jacob chose to attend an out of state college with a better business program. Leena thought they could make long distance work. She still had high hopes for the life she had planned for them.

But then he came to visit with the girl he had been cheating on Leena with.

Jacob gave the excuse that he just forgot to break up with Leena. He thought nothing of it. But it was everything to Leena. And now she finally understood why someone could kill another person. Five years of her life — wasted.

It took her a long time to get back on her feet. Months of laying around at her mom’s house. Then Jamie asked if she would move in with her. She got a job at the Sheridan Museum of Art as a personal tour guide. Leena slowly began to pick up the pieces of her life that a guy she thought she loved carelessly let fall to the floor.

“Don’t talk about him,” Jamie said, “That’s your past. A past that is best left in the past.”

“But — “ Leena ripped her hat from her face and rolled onto her side to look at Jamie. “What if — ?”

“He won’t be like that, I’m sure.” Jamie rolled onto her side as well, tucking her hands beneath her head. “Jacob was a special kind of asshole. And if he happens to be of the same breed — let’s just say I’m not afraid to hit a cop, alright?”

Leena flashed a wide grin that nearly instantly fell when her worries overcame her once more. “Do you really think I’m ready, Jay?”

“I think you are more than ready, darling. Time to finally forget that son-of-a-bitch.”

#the dark knight rises #john blake #john blake imagine #john blake x reader #john blake x you #john blake x oc #dark knight #dark knight imagine #dark knight fic #dark knight fanfic #dark knight fanfiction #john blake fic #john blake fanfic #john blake fanficition #joseph gordon levitt #jgl #nolan batman #dark knight trilogy

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dubmiho · 3 years

Text

I saw someone tag fanart with Miho and Yugi as “best couple” and went ??? Huh? So in the spirit of YGO fandom shipping everyone with literally everyone, I took a crack at some different dynamics. I don’t actually see it for most of these but I tried to be convincing, just for a game:

Miho x Yugi = Yugi I think actually has the closest personality to Miho’s canon crush, Ryou. He’s on the quieter side, a bit of an involuntary loner at the beginning, and loves games. His fashion isn’t quite Miho’s fashion, but I could see them doing each other’s eyeliner and finding they really enjoy each other’s company. Like, are they not just that picture of two girls in a bed with one girl sitting on the girl laying down so that she can do her makeup? Plus, we already know they like playing games together and she offered to kiss him if she lost again.

Miho x Yami Yugi: Miho’s thrill seeking turned up to 11; they’re both insane, determined to get what they want, and lack basic survival instincts yet always seem to luck out. This would be hilarious honestly. Mr. “I have no idea who I am” learning about the modern world from... Miho? Also, she actually slapped Jou for suggesting Ryou is a normally functioning human being and not an angel treading this Earth, so I imagine her teaming up with Mr. “I don’t know what a ‘proportionate response’ is and I don’t want to know,” and just going “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

Miho x Honda = I actually really didn’t like this pairing at all before because “local boy refuses any and all hints this girl just wants to be friends” hit some uuuuh past and present buttons relationship-wise but I’ve come around on it. I do think it could be a cute “boy finally gets the girl” situation and they’d have like, the classic fairytale marriage where he comes home from work ready to adore her and he’s her hero, too.

Miho x Anzu = I’ve said this before but they balance each other out in interesting ways (ambition vs. relaxing; work-life balance etc.) and are, frankly, just super cute.

Miho x Ryou = Self-recognition through the other. Femme power couple. I think Miho is interested in Ryou for pretty shallow reasons--he’s the prettiest boy at the party--but he’s such a little weirdo, and I think it’s funny to imagine Miho getting to know that side of him. She’s lowkey a thrill-seeker and finds the weirdest things cute, so I like to imagine him showing her his occult deck and her just going “Oooh, spooky! Ooh, cute! Oh, scary! Oooh, I love it!” They both really like playing games just for the sake of playing games, and personally, I think if Miho was struggling with a particular game, Ryou would just let her win sometimes to make sure they’re both having as much fun as possible.

Miho x Jou = Firstly, classic ‘Uptown Girl’ dynamic gets the twist that Jou’s the only other one that’s actually into high-end stuff (like the G-Shock watch, limited edition sneakers, etc.). Secondly, they would look Very Masculine Guy x Very Feminine Girl but are actually Bi x Bi; I have a lot of feelings about Jou shedding his toxic masculinity and like, you think she’s not immediately going to get him on a skincare routine? That he’s not going to let her paint his nails and go “Shut the hell up, my girl likes it”? Thirdly, they’re both willing to do dangerous things for their friends, get underestimated as stupid, and go all out with compliments to support their friends; and as we all know, I’m a sucker for “appear extremely different on the surface but have important common values/motivations.” I see them totally enabling supporting each other: getting hyped for new sneaker releases and like that scene where Jou tries to say “Okay Anzu, I guess I’ll get my fortune told since you dragged me here!” except Miho would just go ??? Haha okay, you silly boy! You’re a cutie!

Miho x Seto: Gonna play hard mode and say yes, this is still Season 0 Seto. Miho has the right look and if Seto decided he wanted to date someone for appearances’ sake I could see him assuming she’s dumb and easy to manipulate, and being surprised how stubborn and willful she is. It’s almost a deranged Andy Warhol/Edith Sedgwick situation, but with a lot more money.

#silliness #ooc #I got really lazy on the Anzu/Miho entry but I feel like I've given that space elsewhere lol #get a queue

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tval · 3 years

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Lexi: 5, 10, 11, 12, 15, 16, 63. Anyone else: 1, 2, 4, 9, 10.

1) What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about?

‘Kid’, ‘Kiddo’, “Sunshine’, ‘Sunflower.’

2) What is the color of your OC’s eyes/hair/skin?

Green-grey, sandy blonde, very fair (“extra” pale ivory).

4) What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

Expressive eyes. Ear piercings (three in her left, two in her right). Looks like her older brother (more than she’d like to admit).

5) What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

Mostly casual clothes; jeans, hoodies/sweatshirts, short and long sleeved shirts. Flannel and big sweaters, too. Casual doesn’t equal frumpy, as she likes things to fit properly (jeans? they better be fitted), have a wide range of variety in colour and style, etc. Boots and sneakers (converse, don’t judge) are her go to for shoes.

It really depends on the occasion. She wouldn’t wear the same thing to a wedding as she would to a business event or on a date. But for the sake of simplicity, special occasions would entail flowing skirts, feminine blouses, lace and chiffon dresses, those women’s suits that come in really cool colours, and sweater dresses and tights for the colder months.

9) What does your OC’s bedroom look like? His/her living area?

Her bedroom’s pretty small, but comfortably so. Traditional Japanese living area with modern furniture and touches. Aside from the bed (which takes up quite a bit of space), there’s not much furniture; a little bedside table, desk, and dresser. But there’s clutter, picture frames, stacks of books and magazines…but it’s like, clean clutter? I apologize, I’m not doing a very good job at describing this. It’s so easy to visualize in my head, but writing it down? Nah. I’m going to make this easier and just provide a few links to images that sort of come close to what I’m thinking. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

10) What does your OC keep in a special drawer?

For Lexi: her first real camera, a book of Scottish fairytales, the invitation from her brother’s wedding, an egg-sized crystal that’s definitely timely totally normal (not), and a raven feather.

For the other one: an old photograph from long past days, a violet hair ribbon that’s faded and fraying at the edges, a silver pendant decorated with the Japanese kanji for ‘sunflower’.

11) What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother?

Lexi has a very close and loving relationship with her mom. Her mom has always encouraged Lexi to be herself and to carve out a life that’s uniquely her own. There’s a lot of love and support there. Regarding certain life choices and independent decisions Lexi has made, she’s been wary but otherwise supportive.

12) What is your OC’s relationship with his/her father?

Lexi’s relationship with her dad is very much one of a tough guy with a hard exterior having a soft spot for his little girl. He’s a tad overprotective, despite Lexi no longer being a child. They have, and still do, occasionally butt heads over certain choices and aspects of Lexi’s life, but there’s never been any permanent fallout or love lost.

15) What was your OC’s childhood like?

Lexi’s childhood was pretty good, but also pretty messy. Her family as a whole moved around the country quite a bit, and every time they did it took Lexi longer and longer to adjust. Which, really, would’ve been okay since she had her parents and brothers to help her along, but she started to experience the supernatural/paranormal at a pretty young age.

Aside from all the abnormal crap she had to deal with, Lexi’s childhood was pretty good. You wouldn’t think so with the spooky shit, but you’d be wrong. Loving, encouraging parents. Two older brothers she fought with only 25% of the time (what a low percentage!), an extended family numbering in the dozens; happy, but not perfect. Good, but not without the bad.

16) What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how as that impacted him/her?

When Lexi was around 11 years old and living in Louisiana, she had her first physical encounter with the supernatural. One summer, a few kids started to go missing in the nearby bayou (they lived in a rural part of the state). Through a series of complicated and convoluted events that would take way to long to write, Lexi has a bad encounter with something that is definitely not normal. Creepy giant reptile creature. Dead kid remains are involved. Lexi gets some trauma, killer monster get injured and leaves the area. Cops wrap everything up, deciding an alligator was behind the deaths.

How did this impact Lexi? Pretty simply. She educated herself about all this crazy shit, which eventually prompts her to become a supernatural/monster hunter.

63) How does your OC display love?

Did you want me to go on a long winded rant? Because you’re about to get a long winded rant.

Anyways.It actually depends on the person and the type of love! You know, platonic, familial, romantic, etc. But for this one, I’m going to go with how she shows ~romantic~ love.

Lexi is a very caring and loving person in general. So when it comes to the person she loves, the person she’s in love with, all she really wants is to be with them. Grandiose displays of love and overly romantic gestures? Not really Lexi’s thing. She shows her affection through little gestures; soft caresses, gentle hand holding (lacing her fingers with her significant others; rubbing small circles against her s/o’s palm), pressing herself close to her s/o’s side for the briefest of moments.

Another way that Lexi shows her love is face touching. It’s a little bit strange, but Lexi really likes to touch her s/o’s face. Cupping their cheeks, running her knuckles along their jawline; it might come off as weird or even creepy, but it’s really very soft and sweet.

And yes, most of these displays of love so far has been physical. But Lexi’s a very physically affectionate person. She likes to touch and to be touched. She’s not bad with words, but there’s so much more that can be said with actions. And sometimes words can be difficult. Certain things are hard to say, to admit, and so Lexi would rather show than tell. It’s easier for her.

I said it earlier, that Lexi doesn’t do over the top displays. But she enjoys going on dates and things like that. Going for a walk in the park, spending a quiet evening in; it doesn’t have to be super exciting or special, as long as they can be comfortable and happy in each other’s company is enough. Being together is enough. She wants her s/o to know she loves them with smothering them. Lexi sometimes worries that she is smothering, since she’s more action than words. Those worries are part of the reason a lot of her gestures are quick and brief; show the love, but show it in short bursts. Lexi’s weird in that way. Weird, but loving.

#allison1710 #asks #oc questions #oh lord this took way too long #also the other oc is a ~secret~ oc

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Best New Movies on Netflix in March 2021

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The month of March signals a grim milestone with it being roughly one year since COVID-19 shut movie theaters down around the world. And 12 months later, going to a cinema remains a risky proposition. However, the comfort of Netflix is still providing a safe alternative for the quarantine-bound.

Here’s a handful of new cinematic gems coming to a streaming service near you.

Batman Begins (2005)

March 1

Christopher Nolan‘s Batman origin story breathed new life into the Dark Knight in 2005 after Batman & Robin killed the movie franchise eight years earlier. Christian Bale, who gained more muscle than he probably needed for the role, turns in an excellent performance as both the troubled billionaire and the Caped Crusader. Along for the ride are Michael Caine as the definitive version of Alfred Pennyworth on the big screen, as well as Liam Neeson as Ra’s al Ghul, Gary Oldman as Jim Gordon, and Katie Holmes as love interest Rachel Dawes. Featuring plenty of twists and turns, a few spooky scenes with the Scarecrow (Cillian Murphy), and a deep-dive into the mind of a haunted man on a mission to save his decaying city, Batman Begins plants many of the seeds of brilliance that would fully bloom in its follow-up.

Crazy, Stupid, Love. (2011)

March 1

Hitting its 10-year anniversary in a few months, Glenn Ficarra and John Requa’s Crazy, Stupid, Love. still feels like a rom-com from a different era. With its laid back demeanor, and generally laconic grooving on a plot about a player (Ryan Gosling) helping a middle-aged divorced schmuck (Steve Carell) get back on his feet, this goes down more like a star vehicle from five decades ago. Yet the piece is as effortlessly appealing as Gosling’s too-cool-for-school energy, elevating the movie over screenwriter Dan Fogelman’s more recent dramedies, such as This is Us. Plus, hey, it’s also the first movie to realize Gosling and Emma Stone have like crazy good chemistry.

Dances with Wolves (1990)

March 1

Kevin Costner’s Oscar winner is somewhat haunted by its little gold statues for Best Picture and Director, which it won over Martin Scorsese’s Goodfellas. However, there is still an excellent Western here that captured audiences’ imaginations in 1990 for a reason. The story of a U.S. Cavalry officer who becomes enamored with and then assimilated by a community of Lakota Native Americans, Dances with Wolves has a sweeping majesty that’s as immersive as John Barry’s score. It can be rightly criticized for embracing “white savior” tropes, but Costner’s movie still has the good grace to put performances like Graham Greene’s front and center.

The Dark Knight (2008)

March 1

Fans critical of Heath Ledger’s casting as the Joker quickly switched to praising the late actor when The Dark Knight hit theaters in 2008. A true agent of chaos, this Joker puts Bale’s Batman and his allies through a gauntlet of capers, assassination attempts, and pain. Even district attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), the city’s very own white knight, can’t resist the Joker’s corrupting influence as the clown lays siege to Gotham. A story about how far you’ll go to get justice, and how long a functioning society can withstand that pressure, The Dark Knight plays more like a serious crime drama (with Batman flying off rooftops on occasion, of course) than a traditional superhero romp. At a time when superhero movies were still better known for punching and tights, Nolan sought to say something more with the genre.

Rain Man (1988)

March 1

Barry Levinson’s 1988 road trip drama cleaned up at the Oscars when it was released, bagging Best Picture, Director, Original Screenplay, and Best Actor for Dustin Hoffman. It’s often held up as creating the stereotype of the “autistic savant,” but this drama which sees selfish douchebag Charlie (Tom Cruise) travel across America with Raymond (Hoffman), the brother he didn’t know he had but who is now unexpectedly the sole inheritor of their father’s fortune, still stands up as a character piece that tugs at the heartstrings. If nothing else, it’s a highly quotable cultural phenomenon and a showcase of actors at the top of their game.

Training Day (2001)

March 1

Here is a film so good that its influence still lingers over pop culture to this day, even if no one quite remembers why Denzel Washington is saying King Kong ain’t got shit on him. Back in 2001, it catapulted Washington to his second Oscar, this time in the leading man category thanks to the role of Alonzo, a crooked cop who takes rookie Jake (Ethan Hawke) under his wing and (seemingly) into his vices. It’s a gritty crime thriller anchored by two strong performances, including Washington at his showiest. In fact, he’s so good at elevating this movie that it sometimes feels like director Antoine Fuqua and screenwriter David Ayer have been unsuccessfully trying to duplicate it ever since.

Audrey (2020)

March 14

Audrey Hepburn so effortlessly inhabits the screen that for generations of movie lovers, she seemed unreal—a symbol of style and glamour whose feet were never meant to touch earthly clay. This, however, misses the remarkableness of her life’s journey, from starving conditions under Nazi occupation in the Netherlands during her adolescence—informing her unique frame for the rest of her life—to eventually using those unspoken memories of atrocity as the foundation to become a human rights activist late in life. In between, she had a brief Hollywood career stacked with high fashion and a shockingly high quotient of classics. In fact, she became a new image for femininity in the mid-20th century. Audrey is a somewhat rose-tinted documentary about all of this, but for those who would like to know more, it’s a lovely place to start.

Philomena (2013)

March 22

A sweet, powerful, and decidedly underrated gem, Stephen Frears’ Philomena provides a gentle touch to the true life story of Philomena Lee, a woman who spent 50 years looking for the child she was forced to give up to adoption. But even “forced” is perhaps too easy a word since in her native Ireland, she was more or less incarcerated at a convent after becoming pregnant at the age of 18, with nuns sending the child away to parts unknown without her consent. Philomena now tracks the final months of her search as an older woman through the prism of a two-hander between Judi Dench as Philomena and Steve Coogan as Martin Sixsmith, the journalist who told her story and inspired the film. It makes for a surprisingly warm and affectionate road movie.

At Eternity’s Gate (2018)

March 31

At Eternity’s Gate is far from the only film about the life of Vincent van Gogh and it isn’t the best (shout out to Lust For Life, Loving Vincent, and that one episode of Doctor Who), but it’s still worth a watch—especially for fans of the Dutch painter. With Willem Dafoe as van Gogh, Oscar Isaac as Paul Gaugin, and Mads Mikkelsen as “The Priest,” the 2018 biopic would be worth it for the performances alone. But director and artist Julian Schnabel (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Basquiat) further elevates what is a pretty straight-forward story (albeit with a controversial ending) about the painter’s final, prolific days in the French countryside into a visually vivid and emotionally affecting tale about the joys and struggles of creative compulsion.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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nyxshadowhawk · 5 years

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Nyx’s Complete List of Goth Names

Abaddon: From Greek, means "destruction" or "demon of the pit."

Acheron: The River of Woe in the Greek underworld.

Achlys: Greek primordial goddess of poison, misery, and sadness, personification of the death-mist.

Adonis: Means "lord" (as in Adonai). In Greek mythology, the most beautiful youth in the world, loved by both Persephone and Aphrodite. Died tragically.

Adrian/Adrienne: English, from Latin; means "from Hadria" (the Adriatic Sea). I've heard sources saying it means "dark one," but I haven't been able to confirm this. It's still a really cool, kind of gothy name. (Also the real name of Alucard from Castlevania.)

Ahriman: The Zoroastrian devil/evil god.

Akeldama: Means "field of blood," a place in Jerusalem associated with Judas.

Alastor: Greek, means "avenging spirit."

Alcmene: (Female) Means "might of the moon," Heracles' mother in mythology.

Alecto: One of the Erinyes (Furies), the goddesses of vengeance. Means "unceasing."

Altair: The brightest star in the constellation Aquila (the Eagle), from Arabic, meaning "the bird."

Amaranth: (Female) Greek; a mythical purple flower that never fades, a symbol of immortality.

Amethyst: A dark purple crystal, associated with wine and preventing drunkenness.

Andromeda: Greek, means "thinks like a man," the name of a princess in mythology, a constellation, and a galaxy.

Anubis: Jackal-headed Egyptian god of death and embalming.

Arcana: From Latin "hidden, secret" (literally "to shut in a chest"), refers to secrets or mysteries. Also refers to the groups of cards in a tarot deck (the major and minor arcana).

Arianrhod: Means "silver wheel," Welsh goddess of the moon, stars, and the flow of time.

Artemis/Diana: Greco-Roman goddess of the hunt, the moon, and virginity

Asmodeus: Means "wrath-demon," a Goetic demon appearing in a number of texts, representing luxury, sensuality, and lust. (Also Asmodai)

Asphodel: A white flower planted on graves, said to grow in the Greek underworld, and therefore heavily connected with death.

Astaroth: (Unisex) A demon in the Ars Goetia (from the Lesser Key of Solomon), described as a male demon and a Duke of Hell, but the name likely comes from the Phoenician goddess Astarte (or Ashtoreth), who is a version of Ishtar (Babylonian) and Inanna (Sumerian).

Astor: A French and German name from Occitan, meaning "goshawk." A goshawk is a bird of prey. I've read on naming sites that this name was originally a derogatory term for young men with hawk-like, predatory characteristics, but I haven't found anything to confirm this. This is the name of my alter-ego and one of the main protagonists of Shadowbook.

Astra/Astrid/Asteria: From Greek, "star." In Greek mythology, Asteria was a Titaness of astrology and prophecy, the mother of Hecate. An aster is also a star-shaped flower.

Atropos: The last of the Moirai (Fates), who cuts the thread at the end of life.

Autumn: The darkening part of the year, when everything is dying, and Halloween happens.

Azrael: The name of the Angel of Death, means "whom god helps." (Also Asriel)

Azazel: A Watcher's name, means "scapegoat." Taught humanity the arts of weaponry and cosmetics. Commonly associated with demons and evil.

Baphomet: A goat-headed, winged deity associated with Satanism; obscure etymology.

Bastet: Egyptian goddess of cats.

Belial: A Hebrew name meaning "worthless," a name of the devil or a demon.

Belladonna: Also called "deadly nightshade," an extremely poisonous plant that causes hallucinations and death.

Bellona: Roman goddess of war

Bezaliel: Means "shadow of God" or "damaged," a Watcher's name.

Blodeuwedd: Pronounced "bluh-DIE-weth," means "flower-face." A Welsh goddess who was turned into an owl.

Bram/Brom: Technically short for Abraham ("father of a multitude"), the author of Dracula, Abraham "Bram" Stoker.

Bran: Welsh, "raven." The name of Bran the Blessed, a giant and king of Britain in Welsh mythology.

Branwen: (Female) Welsh, means "white raven" or "fair raven."

Breksta: Lithuanian goddess of night, dreams, and twilight.

Caligo: Latin word for “mist,” “gloom,” and “darkness.” (Calignes is the plural, which could also work) (feminine)

Calypso: Greek, "she who conceals." The nymph who kept Odysseus imprisoned on her island.

Carmilla: A lesbian vampire from the gothic novel of the same name, predating Dracula. The name seems to have been invented by the author.

Cassius: Roman, "empty, hollow."

Ceridwen: Welsh enchantress or goddess who stirs the cauldron of poetic inspiration.

Cernunnos: Celtic forest god depicted as having a stag's antlers.

Chiroptera: Literally means "hand wing," the order of bats in taxonomy.

Circe: Means "circle." In Greek mythology, a sorceress who turned Odysseus' men into pigs (and later helped them).

Cora: From the Greek name Kore, meaning "maiden." A name for Persephone. (Also, Coraline.)

Cornix: A princess transformed into a crow by Athena in Ovid's Metamorphosis.

Corvus/Corax: Corvus corax is the scientific name of the common raven.

Crimson: Dark, rich red, the color of wine or blood. One of the Gothiest colors that isn't black. It's very easy for this to sound banal or cringey, especially if it's a character's given name, so use with caution. Scarlet works, too, if you want something easier to use as a given name.

Damian: From Greek, means "to tame," tends to be associated with demons or vampires, a bit cliche at this point.

Dantalion: A Goetic demon, the name is particularly cool.

Desdemona: A tragic character in Othello, comes from Greek and means "ill-fated." Can be shortened to "Mona."

Desmodus: The genus of common vampire bats. (D. rotundus)

Devana: Slavic version of Artemis/Diana, goddess of the hunt.

Dorian: The corrupt, depraved, nearly immortal and astonishingly beautiful protagonist from The Picture of Dorian Gray. (Turns out Oscar Wilde invented the name; it did not exist before the book was written.)

Dracul: Romanian, "devil" or "dragon." What really needs to be said?

Ebony: A very dark wood.

Echo: In Greek mythology, a nymph who was cursed so she would only repeat the names of others; died while pining after Narcissus.

Edgar: Anglo-Saxon, "rich spear." The name of the one and only Edgar Allen Poe (also, my cat).

Eidolon: A type of spirit or ghost in Greek liteature. Also a genus of bats.

Eirlys: Welsh, "snowflake."

Elatha: An Irish god, described as the "beautiful Miltonic prince of darkness with golden hair." Not sure what the source for that is, but cool!

Elvira: Spanish, means "foreign true," a stereotypical Goth name (and the name of the Mistress of the Dark!). Actually, I first ran across the name in reference to a vengeful ghost called Elvira Blood in New England folk legend. Spooky!

Empusa: A kind of Greek female demon (similar to Lamia) that served Hecate.

Endora: Comes from the Witch of Endor, a Biblical sorceress.

Endymion: In Greek mythology, a handsome shepherd whom Selene fell in love with. Zeus granted him eternal sleep so he would never age. Means "to dive, to enter."

Erebus: Greek primordial god and personification of darkness.

Esmeralda: Spanish name meaning "emerald." (Also, the heroine in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.)

Ethelinda: Anglo-Saxon, means "little serpent."

Euryale: Greek, means "far-roming," the middle Gorgon sister.

Eurynomos: Greek chthonic spirit of corpses.

Eventide: It could work as a name.

Fenrir: A wolf demon in Norse mythology, the son of Loki.

Finvarra: Irish, King of the Fairies (and sometimes King of the Dead), a benevolent entity that ensures a good harvest and abundance.

Gabriel: The angel. Means "warrior of god." Gabrielle also works (and is the name of Lestat's mother).

Gehenna: A Hebrew name for Tartarus or Hell.

Golgotha: From Hebrew, "skull," the place where Jesus was crucified.

Grimm: The surname of two German brothers who recorded a classic collection of oral folklore and fairy tales, many of which are very... well, grim.

Habundia: A Celtic name for the queen of witches and night creatures, possibly another name for Nicnevan. Etymology uncertain.

Hades: The Lord of the Underworld in Greek mythology (also the name of the Underworld itself).

Hawthorn: A type of shrub steeped in folklore, associated with fairies and with Beltane (1st May).

Hecate: Greek goddess of witchcraft, magic, the occult, the moon, necromancy, the Underworld, and the crossroads. Means "worker from far off."

Hellebore: A type of evergreen flower, some species of which are poisonous. Believed to summon demons, also believed to cure madness.

Hemlock: A plant used to poison people.

Herne: "the Hunter," a ghost that haunts Windsor Forest (sometimes identified with The Horned God).

Hesperos/ia: The evening star.

Hypnos: The Greek god of sleep.

Iblis: Satan in Islamic lore.

Idris: Welsh, "ardent (passionate, fiery) lord."

Igor: Russian, "bow-warrior." Became famous as the name of Frankenstein's hunchbacked assistant, even though he doesn't exist in the book and his name in the original Universal film was Fritz.

Ingram: Swedish name meaning "Ing's raven."

Iolanthe: Greek, means "violet flower." (eye-oh-LAHN-thay)

Iseult/Isolde/Isolt: A tragic lover in Arthurian legend.

Jasmine: A type of flower, in this case referring to Cestrum nocturnum, or night-blooming jasmine.

Kali: Hindu goddess of destruction, name means "the black one."

Kasdaye: Means "hidden power," the name of a Watcher (another name for Tamiel). (Unisex)

Kiara/n: Gaelic, means "little black one."

Kimaris: A Goetic demon. (Male)

Kokabiel: Means "angel of the stars," a Watcher.

Lacrimae: Latin word for tears.

Lamia: A female demon in Greek folklore who devours children. The name of the witch in the film version of Stardust.

Lenore: A variant of Eleanor (also a good name), means "foreign," the lost love of the protagonist of "The Raven," also has her own poem.

Leshii: A Russian god of hunting, similar to Veles

Lethe: River of Forgetfulness in the Greek Underworld.

Leviathan: From Hebrew, "twisted in folds," a Biblical sea monster. Sometimes associated with Midgard's Serpent.

Libitina: A Roman goddess of corpses, funerals, and the dead.

Ligeia: Greek, the name of a Siren, also the subject of a Poe story of the same name.

Lilah: Comes from the Arabic Leila, meaning "night."

Lilith: Means "of the night" or "screech owl." In Hebrew mythology, Adam's first wife and the Queen of Demons. She refused to submit to Adam, so she left Eden and began screwing around with demons. Often considered a succubus or vampire, or a champion of feminism. A lilim is also a succubus or incubus.

Loki: Trickster god in Norse mythology with ambiguous morals.

Lorelei: German, means "murmuring rock," the name of a German Siren.

Lucius/Lucifer/Lucien: All mean "light" or "light-bringer," a name associated with Satan.

Lucy: From Dracula, also could be a shortening/feminization of Lucifer. (Still means "light.")

Luna: The Roman personification of the moon.

Lycoris: A Greek word that means "twilight," the name of an Asian red flower, associated with death and the underworld (much like Asphodel).

Maeve: Comes from Gaelic, means "the intoxicating one." Associated with the Fairy Queen Mab.

Makaria: Greek goddess of blessed death, a daughter of Hades and Persephone.

Mania: Etruscan/Roman goddess of the undead, ghosts, and underworld spirits, goddess of madness. Also a modern medical term referring to a specific mental illness.

Mara: A name steeped in darkness, referring to a nightmare spirit (nightmare), a (benevolent) goddess of death in Latvian mythology, a (male) demon in Buddhist mythology, and a Sanskrit word meaning "death."

Medea: In Greek mythology, the sorceress who helped Jason, but then went on a murderous rampage when he left her. Considered to be a priestess (or, rarely, daughter) of Hecate.

Megaera: One of the Erinyes (Furies), the goddesses of vengeance. Means "grudge."

Melanie: Greek, "black" or "dark."

Melantha: Greek, "dark flower."

Melinda/Mindy: English, "black serpent."

Melinoe: Greek goddess of ghosts, nightmares, and madness, a daughter of Hades and Persephone.

Mephistopheles: The name of the devil in the Faust legend, could be from Hebrew and mean "disperser of lies," or from Greek and mean "does not love the light."

Merle: (Unisex) from French, "blackbird."

Mina: From Dracula. Short for Wilhelmina, a German name meaning "will-helmet."

Morana/Marzanna: Slavic goddess of winter and death.

Morgan/Morgana: From Welsh, means "sea-circle," the name of Morgan le Fay, a sorceress in Arthurian Legend (who may be good or evil, depending on your interpretation).

Morpheus: The Greek god of dreams, the main protagonist of Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics. (Also, The Matrix.)

Morrigan: An Irish goddess of death, battle, and ravens, name means "great queen."

Morwenna: A Welsh name meaning "maiden." ("Morwanneg" is the name of the witch in Stardust.)

Nepenthe: A magical drug from the Odyssey that cures sorrow and causes forgetfulness.

Nephthys: Means "lady of the temple," the Egyptian goddess of the dead, mate of Seth and mother of Anubis.

Nergal: Mesopotamian god of death, war, and destruction.

Nicnevan: Queen of the Fairies in Scottish folklore. She is the Scottish version of Hecate.

Nightshade: A family of plants including tomatoes, potatoes, and eggplants, but also the notorious deadly nightshade.

Nisha/nt: A Hindi name meaning "night."

Nocturne: Self-explanatory. Refers to a night prayer, a musical composition evoking night, or a night scene in art.

Nyctala/Nyctea: Two obsolete genera of owls. Nyctala is the genus of Boreal owls before it was changed to Aegolius, and Nyctea was the genus of Snowy owls before it was changed to Bubo. Both probably mean or are related to "night."

Nyctalus: A genus of bats.

Nyctimene: A princess from Ovid's Metamorphoses who was so ashamed at having been molested by her father, she refused to show her face in daylight. Out of pity, Minerva (Athena) turned her into an owl. Also a genus of bats.

Nyx: A Greek primordial goddess and personification of the Night. (also Nox)

Oberon: From French, means "elf-ruler," the name of the Fairy King in A Midsummer Night's Dream (Referred to in one scene as the "king of shadows").

Obsidian: A shiny black volcanic stone.

Onyx: A type of banded stone, most famously black. (The word comes from the Greek for "fingernail.")

Ophelia: A tragic character in Hamlet, which probably comes from Greek and means "help."

Orcus: A Latin word for Hell, and a Roman god who punished the dead (possibly an epithet of Hades/Pluto).

Orion: A hunter in Greek mythology, and the famous constellation.

Orlok: The name of the ugly-looking vampire from Nosferatu.

Orpheus: Greek name, possibly comes from the word orphe, "darkness." The name of a demigod with an impossibly beautiful singing voice who attempted to rescue his love from the underworld, failed, and then died tragically.

Pan: Greek goat-horned god of nature, herds, and lust, induces "panic."

Pandora: Name means "all-gifted." In Greek mythology, the name of the first woman, who opened a box that unleashed evil upon the world.

Pandemonium: The capital city of Hell in Paradise Lost, name literally means "all demons."

Persephone: Greek Queen of the Underworld, wife of Hades, and goddess of springtime. You probably know her story. Her name might mean "thrasher of grain" (which would make sense for an agricultural goddess), but could also mean "slayer."

Phaenon: Means "shining" in Greek, refers to the planet Saturn (which has long been associated with darkness in mythology, being the furthest planet from the sun that is observable with the naked eye).

Pluto: Hades' Roman name, also the ninth planet, or what was the ninth planet.

Ransley: An English name meaning "raven's meadow."

Raven: This is by far the most cliche Goth name there is (I originally created this list to provide alternatives to the name “Raven”), but it’s classic, it’s simple, it’s unisex, and it’s undeniably Goth.

Ravenna: Self-explanatory, also an Italian city.

Renwick: Scottish surname meaning "raven settlement."

Sable: A word referring to the color black.

Salome: From Hebrew shalom, "peace." The daughter of Herod and Herodias, unnamed in the Bible, who requested the head of John the Baptist and danced the Dance of the Seven Veils.

Samael: Means "venom of God," a vicious angel of death, the mate of Lilith. He is not technically a fallen angel, but a servant of God who does the dirty work.

Sekhmet: Egyptian goddess of war and destruction, with the head of a lioness. Her name means "power" or "might." Her epithets included "Mistress of Dread," "Lady of Slaughter," and "She Who Mauls." Ra had to stop her from killing people by getting her drunk on beer that was dyed to look like blood.

Selene: Greek personification of the moon. (Includes "Selena" and variants.")

Senka: Basque name meaning "shadow."

Seren: (Unisex) Welsh name meaning "star."

Seth: A name of Set or Sutekh, the Egyptian god of evil, chaos, and storms. He killed his brother Osiris and cut his body into pieces, and then was defeated by Horus. His head is that of an animal that looks kind of like an aardvark but is not an actual existing creature (at least not anymore). He was associated with the color red and the desert. His name possibly means "one who dazzles."

Shadow: Self-explanatory.

Silas: From Greek, means "from the forest." In The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, it's the name of a [spoiler]vampire.

Silver: The color of the moon, and it looks nice with black.

Sinistra: Technically, it's Latin for "left," but it obviously has "sinister" connotations.

Skiá: Greek word for "shadow" or "shade."

Skotos: Ancient Greek word for "darkness," especially the darkness of death or the netherworld, or obscurity.

Skuld: The last of the Norns (Fates), representing death. Means "debt."

Sombra: The Spanish word for "shadow."

Somnus: Roman name for Hypnos, sleep.

Spyridon: Greek name referring to wicker baskets, which implies wealth. Could also be connected to the Latin spiritus, which means breath or spirit. Usually shortened to Spyro.

Stella: The Latin word for "star."

Stheno: Greek, means "forceful." The eldest of the Gorgon sisters.

Styx: The River of Hate in the Greek Underworld, the most famous of its rivers. The souls of the dead are ferried across it by Charon, and the gods (foolishly, if you ask me, seeing as they always regret it) swear on the Styx to make unbreakable oaths. The word "Stygian" means "of the River Styx" and refers to something very dark or abyssal.

Summanus: Roman god of nocturnal thunder.

Sylvia/Sylvana: Latin, "from the forest."

Tanith: Phoenician, "serpent lady."

Tartarus: The deepest hell-pit of the Greek Underworld, where evildoers are punished.

Tempest: A wild storm, from the Latin for "time."

Thanatos: The Greek personification of Death.

Tiamat: Babylonian primordial dragon goddess.

Tisiphone: One of the Erinyes (Furies), the goddesses of vengeance. Means "murder-retribution."

Tristan: Welsh, "riot, tumult." (Although it sounds like the Latin tristis, which means "sad.") The name of Isolt's lover in Arthurian Legend, and the name of the protagonist in Stardust.

Valerian: Roman, means "strength" or "valiant," also the name of an herb.

Vega: (Unisex) Latin from Arabic, means "falling" or "swooping," a star in the constellation Lyra. It is one of the brightest stars in the entire sky.

Veles: Slavic horned god of cattle, forests, magic, and the underworld.

Veliona: Slavic goddess of death

Velvet: A fabric that most goths love to wear.

Vervain: An herb (verbena), meaning "sacred bough," considered a magical or holy herb in multiple cultures.

Vesperus: (or just Vesper), a Roman name meaning "evening." (Vespera for a girl)

Vespertilio: A genus of bats.

Victor: The first of the trio of gothy male "V" names, means "conqueror," as in "victory." Frankenstein's first name. (Victoria also works for a girl.)

Vincent: The second of the trio of gothy male "V" names, also meaning "conquering," from Latin.

Vivian: The Lady of the Lake in Arthurian legend. From French, means "lively." (Another name for the Lady is Nimue, which is Welsh and may be related to the Greek word for "memory." She sealed Merlin in a tree.)

Vlad: The third of the trio of gothy male "V" names, the name of Vlad Tepes or "Vlad the Impaler," the real-life Romanian prince who inspired Count Dracula. It's Slavic and means "ruler."

Willow: A beautiful and mournful-looking tree.

Winter: The dark, cold season. Unisex!

Yvaine: Scottish, means "evening star," the name of the star in Stardust.

Zagreus: The name of a chthonic Greek god who was potentially a son of Hades and Persephone or Zeus and Persephone, considered in Orphic lore to be Dionysus before he was dismembered and reincarnated.

Zillah: Hebrew name meaning "shadow."

#names #goth names #writing #gothic names #character names #mythology #gods and goddesses #literature #gothic lit #name list

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jawnjendes · 5 years

Text

shawn meets... | sapphire(3)

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm. (AU, shawn x every one of my oc’s)(continuation/spin off of goth gf)

AN: SPOOKY N SAD AT THE END. tryna get all the spooky out before @fourtristattoos spooky fest ends!!

***let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

previous chapter (this did not appear in the tags, so pls read if you havent done so already)

sapphire’s blog | sapphire’s playlist | masterlist

Sam Doyle was five foot eleven inches of pure, Irish sex. There was no other way to put it, really. He wasn’t exactly great looking, but the sheer amount of confidence and chaotic energy he had upon arriving to Sapphire’s mansion was enough to get Shawn reeled in as well.

He had sparkling blue eyes, a man bun, and a decent amount of scruff. He was just how Sapphire had described him: clad in all back, several tattoos going up and down his arms, and very broody. He was a mystery, and it was like a bus that Shawn was hit with the realization that he actually does have a type: the mysterious, brooding loners who wear all black. Sapphire was the odd one out in the group of people Shawn has been interested throughout the last few years.

"Nice to meet you, Shawn," Sam said in a tone that matched his outfit. He had a strong grip as he shook hands with the singer. "Sippy wasn't lying when she said you're a looker." He winked.

"More than a looker," Sapphire said, leaning against the Irishman and hugging his arm. "He's a dream."

Shawn was not the type to get so flustered, but that was before he met Sapphire. He swore this entire house was changing his state of mind.

"Stop," he said in a voice more docile than expected. "You're way too nice."

"Just calling it as it is," Sam told him with a grin.

Sam Doyle kept Sapphire Lilith to himself for the first two days he was at the mansion. The two of them were holed up in the pink bedroom, not caring who heard or saw what was going on. Shawn had no part in it, he wasn’t the center of attention, and it made him feel some kind of way. He could have left the estate altogether, but Sapphire sent him periodical texts reminding him to stay. He couldn’t bring himself to disobey her.

There was no choice but to wander. Shawn used the gym as often as he pleased, mostly to get rid of the frustration. Sometimes he lounged in the library, find all sorts of books to get lost in. It was actually quite pleasant, even though there was a voice in the back of his head telling him that this whole situation was just a little weird. The voice sounded like Andrew, who actually called him.

"So, we're going back to Toronto tomorrow," he told his client. "Should I call a car for you?"

How is it that Shawn literally forgot he had been in London for work things… in the middle of his break. No, he would not be going to Canada today or tomorrow or anytime soon. He tells Andrew just as much.

"Why not?" he asked, clearly annoyed. "We have things to do before you get back to recording!"

"I'm supposed to be on vacation right now, I don't want to work," Shawn said, glancing up at the ceiling as he heard a rhythmic banging noise.

"You're still hanging around that socialite, aren't you?" Andrew guessed. "What, is she paying you to stay with her?"

Shawn scoffed. "No. I like her, and she likes me. I'm well taken care of here."

"For now. What about when she's done with you?"

The banging sound persisted, so Shawn walked out into the hallway, phone pressed to his ear. Walking up a flight of stairs, he realized he was getting annoyed as well. He didn't want to leave the Lilith Manor anytime soon, why didn't Andrew get that?

"When she's done, she's done," Shawn said, despite the fact that the girl in question had another person in her bedroom and he wasn't allowed to get in on it. "It's nothing serious, anyway."

"If it's not serious, then why are you so keen on staying with her?" Andrew asked. "Look, I heard about what happened with you and Brian. He's sorry about-"

Something went off, and Shawn snapped. "If he's sorry, he can come tell me himself!"

Andrew was silent for a moment. "I don't know what exactly happened, but you need to get it together. Are you really going to let one argument with your best friend stop you from going home?"

"Look, you're not my mom, so back off. I'll go home on my own terms."

"Hey-"

Shawn ended the call and sighed. He leaned against the wall, bumping the back of his head against it. He wasn't staying here because he was mad at Brian. That's stupid. It's petty. He was staying at the Lilith estate because he genuinely wanted to. Sapphire was kind and generous, and really unlike anyone he’s ever been attracted to.

He really couldn’t remember the last time he was into someone so feminine. So charming. Someone with such goddess-like energy… but god and goddess wasn’t the right way to put it.

It had gotten awfully quiet in the vicinity as Shawn wandered while on the phone. He peered into the room he was standing outside of and… Well, there was a time in his life where he wouldn’t question the sight of a skull or pentagram. Now, it was different and a little jarring.

The room was pink, just like any other. This one was decorated with a neon light in the shape of a pentagram hanging on the wall. Large blades with pink handles were hanging on either side of the gram, and a goat skull was hanging above it. There was a little table against the wall underneath all that. Shawn stepped closer, finding a little bowl and a closed pocket knife on the surface. He felt the hairs on his arms and back of his neck stand up, and a bizarre chill went down his spine. There was a slight burn under where his necklace hung and he looked down at his chest.

Maybe a pentagram and a rosary in the same room wasn’t a good mix after all.

Shawn turned on his heel, intending to leave the room and act like he saw nothing, but someone was standing in the doorway.

“Lookin’ for something?” asked Sam.

Okay, he was literally on the floor above with Sapphire. How could he move so fast and track Shawn down so easily?

Also, why did Shawn feel like he had been caught with his hand down his pants? He was just wandering, which he was allowed to do. He couldn’t help the heat rising on his face, or the stammering of his words as Sam’s blue eyes stared him down.

“Well? Spit it out, pet,” he pressed, but he didn’t sound playful anymore. His eyes got darker, literally. The irises turned black for a split second before returning to their brilliant blue.

It made Shawn’s heart pound in his ears. Did he even dare mention what he just saw? Did he even actually see that? He didn’t blink, did he?

“I was on the phone,” he finally replied, face heating up even more at the nickname. “Wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I think I got lost.”

“Best to get lost somewhere else, then.” Sam trailed his eyes down Shawn’s body. “You need to get rid of that thing around your neck.”

He looked down at his rosary. “My grandmother gave it to me.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Huh. I guess you’re not as obedient as Sippy said.” He gestured for the other man to follow him.

On most occasions, Shawn wasn’t so docile. He would have asked more about this room and the problem with his rosary if it weren’t for the headspace he had been fucked into. He knew when and how to get out of it, but it was always looming on his shoulders. It just took the charm of some pretty people to get it out, and so far, that only pretty person was Sapphire.

He followed Sam up to Sapphire’s bedroom. Shawn ended up watching them fuck with his hands tied behind his back. It was a good way to forget about the black eyes.

The very next day, Sam had left the property, and apparently without warning. It was the first time Shawn had seen Sapphire break her bubbly demeanor.

“Come with me,” she said to Shawn after breakfast.

Like a lost puppy, he followed her down to the gym. Sapphire took off her silk robe to reveal the sports bra and leggings she had on. She approached the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

“Hold it for me,” she commanded as she cracked her knuckles.

Shawn stood behind the bag, mildly weary. “Shouldn’t you put on some - oof!”

Sapphire punched the bag once, hard enough to make it lurch into Shawn’s body. He didn’t question her methods anymore and silently held the bag.

She was always the one doing the grabbing, pulling, and pinning down, yet only now was Shawn realizing just how strong Sapphire was. Every blow she delivered to the bag made Shawn’s stance against it falter. She didn’t even have any use for sports tape or gloves. Her bare, manicured hands and a crazed look in her eyes was all that was needed for her to get her frustrations out.

After her workout, Sapphire requested to be left alone. Shawn might as well have disappeared. He would have if he wasn’t so needy for her attention. It was like crack. Sweet, baby pink crack.

He did leave her alone for a few hours. But he knew she wasn’t feeling okay, and he didn’t want to let her wallow in it. He found her in one of the living rooms, curled up on the couch with her phone in hand. Sapphire was draped under a fluffy white blanket, the picture of sadness.

Shawn went to sit on the floor in front of the couch. He reached over and stroked the side of her face. Sapphire made a tiny noise at the touch, picking her head up off the pillow. When her glittery eyes opened, Shawn was not expecting to see bright red irises. He recoiled a little bit, remembering the recurring dream he had along with Sam’s black-to-blue eyes. Still, Shawn didn’t move his hand away..

“Contacts?” he guessed, feeling weary for some reason.

She nodded, still looking upset. “What do you want?”

“You’ve been tense all day, honey.”

Sapphire had a little pout on her cute little lips. She wasn’t as stubborn as other girls that Shawn has dated, and she sat up after a moment, patting the space next to her.

“Lovers don’t mean shit, right?” she said when Shawn was sat next to her. Her voice was oddly soft and innocent.

He blinked. “Define lover?”

“I don’t understand the concept of love,” she said. “I understand companions. Friends. Sex. All of that for fun. I enjoy the company of others, even if I don’t sleep with them. I enjoy the company of my staff, I don’t sleep with any of them, nor do I intend to.”

“Well,” Shawn said, “you care about them, right?”

Sapphire nodded.

“You want your friends to be happy, live their best life and everything?”

“Yes.”

“That’s love.”

She paused for a moment, scrunching her brows. “Well, I understand that! It’s just… going on dates? Holding hands? You can do that with your friends. Spending the rest of your life with one person? I can’t see that.”

Shawn understood now. “Oh, you don’t feel romantic attraction? Not even for Sam?”

“No. He and I have been together for years, and it’s always been open. We’re each other’s best friends, tied for life. I was something else before I met him.”

“People come and go from your life, no matter what. And you’re always, always changing. Nothing’s permanent.”

The blonde looked down, a pensive look on her face.

“Or…” Shawn trailed off. “Has, has Sam hurt you? Is he not good to you?”

Sapphire looked up at him. “He and I are fine. She - I love spoiling him. And we have all seen what he’s like in bed. Like I said, it’s for life. I just don’t love him the way a wife would love her husband.”

“Does he know that?”

“I’m sure he does. He does this a lot, just runs off whenever he pleases without so much as leaving a note. It hurts a bit when he does that.” She paused. “I even have to send Kat to see if he ran off with my Tesla! That thing was custom made!”

So what’s the problem then, other than Sam’s departures are painful?

“He’ll come back,” Shawn reassured, “if he cares, he’ll come back.”

Sapphire scoffed. “In a hundred years perhaps. Fuck’s sake, why can’t this stupid little brain realize she’s being used! Stupid little boyfriend doesn’t love or care! He just fucks!”

Shawn wasn’t sure what she was talking about, and he was too afraid to ask. Not to mention, Sapphire just confirmed she was okay with just being friends with Sam. So he tried a different approach.

“Why don’t we forget about all of this for a while, eh?” he asked gently, offering a smile.

He really should have started with that.

There’s animalistic sex, and then there’s whatever that was. It was hot, sure. But Shawn had a few too many scratch marks right where his heart was and nowhere else on his body. Well, apart from the restraints around his wrists that kept him bound to the headboard. Sapphire was especially harsh this time, and all she did was ride him.

She made all sorts of noises that probably wouldn’t normally come from a typical human. A type of guttural growling that didn’t match her sweet voice bubbled out of her throat several times, and she didn’t say anything to her partner. There were no words of praise or coos of his name. Just… borderline demonic sounds.

They were both sweating by the end of it, and Sapphire’s noises sounded more like herself, but distressed. She whimpered like she was in pain as she rolled off of Shawn’s body. Her body collapsed next to him and she curled up into a ball, panting softly.

It worried him. She was never like this after sex, had something gone wrong? He turned his head, watching her body shake slightly, and he tugged on his restraints.

“Saph? Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked, but received no answer. “Sapphire, hey. I need you to untie me.”

She hiccuped and listened to him. She sat up, keeping her head down, probably knowing that Shawn was watching her face, as she reached over and untied the rope from his wrists. As soon as he was free, Shawn sat up and scooped the blonde into his arms, gently shushing her.

“I know, it was really intense,” he soothed. “You really got into character, eh? Those contacts give you power or something.”

Again, she didn’t respond. Sapphire merely leaned into his chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. Shawn planned on holding her for as long as she wanted, but even that was interrupted.

A rapid knock sounded on the door, followed by Kat’s voice. “Ms. Lilith?”

“You don’t have to-” Shawn was about to say, but Sapphire was out of bed in the blink of an eye.

She picked her robe up off the ground and put it on before opening the door a crack. Shawn sheepishly got back under the covers, shielding his modesty. He heard the two women speak to each other in hushed tones, and he noticed that Kat was panicked. Her composure was nowhere to be seen. Then Sapphire gasped.

“Oh… oh, I see.” She closed the door once again and then went to her wardrobe.

“What happened?” Shawn asked, watching her as she stripped off her robe and pulled on a pink nightgown.

“Nothing, darling,” she replied, keeping her back to him as she pulled out another piece of fabric from her wardrobe. It was sheer and black, another robe. She put it on, and it trailed along the floor as she swiftly went back to the door. Then she turned to him and quickly blew him a kiss. “Just get some sleep, alright? I have things to tend to.”

The last thing he heard in the hall was Kat scolding her employer for “changing clothes at a time like this.” He sat there on the bed, naked and confused. That weird chill went down his spine, like when he was in the pentagram room. Some type of anxiety formed in his chest as well, something was telling him to deny Sapphire’s request.

Shawn got dressed as quietly as he could, trying to make out the voices out in the hallway. He pressed his ear to the door, and heard Kat’s heels come to a stop. Just as Shawn placed his hand on the knob, he heard Sapphire’s voice right outside the door.

“Darling?”

He answered the call, meeting Sapphire’s blue eyes once more. Her face was full of worry, and she was playing with the fuzzy ends of her sleeves.

Wait. Her eyes are blue.

“Your-” Shawn was about to say.

“Darling, your friend came over,” Sapphire said over him. “And, er, there’s been an accident.”

Her eyes are blue.

“What?” he asked, his mind being pulled in every direction. “What? Wait, I- what friend?”

“Red hair.”

“Brian?” He and the team left for Toronto yesterday. There’s no way he could be here. “Where is he?”

Shawn was about to step out of the room, but Sapphire placed her hands on his chest. She still had that concern on her face, and it wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“There was an accident,” she repeated.

“What happened?”

But Sapphire didn’t answer. As if on cue, she stepped to the side to reveal Kat, who had been in the hallway. Her face was much more composed than how she sounded a few minutes ago. She stepped forward, looking Shawn directly in the eyes.

“Your friend was let in earlier tonight,” she explained calmly. “It was presumed he was looking for you. He was walking up one of the flights of stairs, and he slipped. He fell backwards, into a glass table.”

“What the fuck? Is he okay? Where is he?” Shawn made another move to leave the room, but both women stopped him.

Kat continued, keeping the same cool tone. “He somehow crashed into the table neck first. An ambulance was called and is on the way, but I couldn’t find a pulse. I’m sorry, Mr. Mendes.”

All the directions his mind was going in suddenly halted. Only one thought that passed through his suddenly foggy brain: Her eyes are blue.

next chapter

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taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @shawnsunflower @someoneunimportantxx @chillingbythesea @theprivatesmutacc @iloveshawnieboi

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #spookytattoosfestival #shawn x oc #shawn meets fic #i s2g if this isnt in the tags

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